‘Not Even A Mouse’

‘Not Even A Mouse’

By Susan (Hughes) Canganelli

December 1965

Not Even A Mouse

“’Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a mouse.” *

Said Mrs. J. Mouse
To her little son Tim
As she sat in her rocking chair
Reading to him.

As she finished the last line
Of this Christmas tale,
Timmy sat up in bed,
His face a bit pale.

“Does that mean that no mouse
Has seen Santa Claus?”
“That’s right dear,”
His mother replied with a pause.”

“Now please go to sleep.
You don’t want to be sick.”
And she turned out the light
With a very loud click.

Restlessly Timothy
Turned o’er in bed,
A vision of Santa Claus
Danced in his head.

“This is the night!
Christmas Eve is here!
Jolly old Santa Claus
Soon will appear!”

“I’ll be in bed.
I’ll be sleeping right through it.
No I won’t
I just won’t!
I’m not going to do it!”

His mind was made up.
His decision was quick.
Tonight he would stay up
And see old Saint Nick!

Timmy crept silently
Out of his bed,
And put a warm cap
On his very cold head.

He crept through the hall
Where the Christmas tree stood
And said, “Santa will come,
I know I’ve been good.”

So he sat in a corner, Away out of sight.
He sat, and he sat
Far into the night.

And just as the hour
Of midnight arose
Poor tired Timothy
Started to doze.

He started to feeling
So, so very lazy.
His body was limp,
And his thoughts a bit hazy.

And finally Timothy
Dropped off to sleep,
Curled up on the floor
In a very small heap.

“’Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a mouse.”

Merry Christmas!

* Livingston, Major Henry, Jr. (1807). Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas, Representative Poetry Online, Retrieved November 3, 2005, from http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poem/1312.html

About the author: Susan Hughes Canganelli was born in Tell City, Indiana and grew up on a farm near Alamo. At the age of twelve, she wrote this poem for her dear neighbor, Mae Stout when she lived along Sugar Creek in Indiana.

© 2018, Susan Canganelli.

 

 

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