The Mouse

Photo by Jon DeBoer
Photo by Jon DeBoer

One evening in the summer
Beneath the lights and smoke
A Battle of the Titans
Le Rouge and Mighty Oak

From Arbor over yonder
Unto the City gate
What brought the two together
Was nothing less than fate

The Red they started quickly
Striking once and then once more
Immortality was within their grasp
A place in City lore

But then The Tree responded
‘Our roots are deep and strong
Before this day is over
Our name shall be in song’

A blow and then another
The lead had been erased
A chilling silence filled the air
And worry marked each face

The warriors surged now back and forth
Deep on into the night
Then just inside the old south wall
One sought to end the fight

The Mouse was what they called him
For in stature he was small
But in this deadly game of foot
He was greatest of them all

The ball fell slowly to his Right
He took his chance with skill
His strike found home; He wheeled off
To celebrate the kill

The long-awaited day had come
The Tree had been chopped down
For forty days and forty nights
Joy swept through the old town

The hero’s name was Mondi
For ever tell his tale
That your children’s children speak it still
When they are old and frail


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