This article is from the Nov./Dec. 1996 AFRMA Rat & Mouse Tales news-magazine.

By Louise Stack

Every night at bedtime
When I can’t fall asleep,
I always count tiny little mice
I never count sheep.

I picture tiny little mice
Running past my bed,
Heading for the kitchen
To pilfer bits of bread.

I count them as they scurry by;
Some tan, some red, some white;
When I can’t sleep, I count those mice
It seems most every night.

The patter of their tiny feet
As they go dashing by,
Puts me to sleep, I do declare,
Though I cannot say why.

Sometimes I imagine mice
Running on a wheel;
Rows and rows of running mice;
It’s really quite surreal!

Spinning, spinning, spinning
Each wheel goes, and goes, and goes;
Until the thought of spinning mice
Makes my eyelids close.

When one mouse saw I was asleep,
In “mouse talk” he did speak.
“Since this guy’s finally sawing wood,
I pray our wheels don’t squeak!”