The Gunnera Umbrella.
Under the gunnera sat a wee mouse;
Good, she decided, fine site for her house;
It would keep her nest quite cosy and dry,
Hygienic and private for expected small fry.
No one is willing to weed those huge leaves;
Those spiky prickles do need thorn-proof sleeves.
She gathered some leaves and scraps of old labels,
Also some twiglets to make it more stable,
Ignoring the gunnera, scuttling around,
Its prickles avoided, when once they were found.
Thirteen blind babies arrived the next day.
Mice seem to thrive and evolve well that way.
Those babies grew quickly to venturesome teens;
They soon found the Garden had fine peas and beans;
They deserted their home for lush pulses and grain;
But ran back at once when it started to rain.
A message for folk who are feeling neglected -
If recession hits hard you will soon be respected.
This was written when recession hit and young people who had left home began returning to the family nest when their finances took a hit. It's a longer version of the first one.
