Mouse Poems

Story by Squirrel on SoFurry

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Author's Note: Something a bit different, I guess. Some story-poems, as it were. Field/Adelaide poems, all of them. Which means, thematically, they're laced with lots of romance/love. But I thought I would share just a few (three) of them. Hope they're okay.

DURING FRIDAY BREAKFAST

It happened during Friday breakfast,

after the thirsty, sprinkling rain,

and before the hummingbirds began to wane.

I had just finished my civil cereal,

my cinnamon shredded wheat,

when I was hit by a sudden, spicy,

full-body shiver,

a wake-up punch,

a white-rapid river of

rushing thoughts that

went and weakened me at the knees

and made my paws a bit sweaty.

I nearly dropped my spoon.

I gave a bewildered squeak

as I brought my bowl to the silvery sink,

bare foot-paws scuffling on the linoleum floor,

dilated pupils watching milk and water pool down the drain

as my body flipped all the off-switches in my brain.

Next, came a tantalizing, tingling quiver,

my ever-active nose and whiskers

twitching like I was itching

to be scratched. And, by this time, I was.

Oh, scratch me, please,

all down my belly and back.

I began to tremble from a shortness of breath.

This is what sexual arousal does to a mouse.

So, a weak, bewildered walk

to the bed, through the living room

like a wedding-night groom,

until I was sitting on the edge

of our warm, double mattress. And I swallowed

as my blunt-clawed, furry toes curled

and my tail unfurled

like a downed power line.

You, already awake,

with dim, cloudy light slanting through the window,

tilted your pretty, batty head and

said, "Flustered?"

I weakly nodded,

my ears

burning

hot

like oven-tops,

and my gaze desperately swimming in yours.

But through the searing heat,

something always greets

such animal instinct. And I know it's

faith

and

love,

tempering all lust

with meaning that throbs and thrusts.

"You look like you need somethin'," you continued,

all pink and perfect with your

pearly-white fangs.

And, darling, even in the state I was in,

that sparkle in your eyes

didn't escape me.

It never does.

"I, uh ... uh. Um, Adelaide ... "

" ... say it," you whisper,

needing it just as much. Oh,

telepathic, winged thing,

you always understand.

"It's okay, Field ... "

Lips dry,

voice wispy and shy,

I manage a dizzy nod, a panted,

"I wanna ... have sex ... with you. Please,"

I stumble. "Make love? With me?"

I descend, then, into effeminate, delicate-postured squeaks,

feeling somewhat like a fool.

But, Lord, I'm the way I am,

and, Lord, it's what I need!

You grin,

giving a hungry sigh, saying,

"If you only knew how cute you were ... "

Followed with an unashamed, sultry command of,

"Get beneath the sheets."

I wriggled right in,

and we began to melt

as we do daily,

into a steamy mixture of muzzles, muff, and mouse-hood,

hips, legs, and lips,

breasts, rumps, and tails. Writhing wonderfully,

wing-wrapped and bit,

nibbled and licked. Everything crying for purchase,

and the day so stale

compared to the fresh rising of our love.

And, oh, ah, as we went, I felt

a fiery, frosty relief

pleasure me

pure

and

deep!

Such satisfaction, darling. You truly

made me sane again.

And if it's true that my heart's been

half-asleep

inside of me,

then it's utterly clear that it

wakes up when you're around, cause

you're the moon that trips my tide.

For during Friday breakfast

I was definitely

most thoroughly

beautifully

alive.

INGREDIENTS

If mouses were a recipe,

they would be:

2 cups each

of scurry and squeak

2 cups wide-eyed faith

1 1/2 cup sharp, shredded anxiety

1 cup extract of 'effeminate'

3/4 cup spice of submissiveness

3/4 cup pure, powdered tenderness

1/2 cup whisker-twitch and nose-sniff (combined)

1/2 cup assorted (other) 'mousey motions'

(wriggle, squirm, swivel, and snake)

2 Tbsp. innocence

3 tsp. salty tears

And, oh, yes:

1 stick of sweetened sex (or more, to taste)

Sprinkle with cuteness and serve to pink-furred bats.

A SUNSET FIRE

Warm, baited breathing

supplants what came before,

cruel, gnawing anxiety

shown the back-porch door.

For you looked into my void,

and declared it 'good,'

called it 'light.'

And said: 'I don't mind a mouse.'

(Yes ... )

... you entered my world

like a pink sunset fire,

delaying the start of night.

The 'toss-and-turn' mire

cleared out of my lonely bed.

A space for you, dear,

in my sheets,

instead. All reason faulted ...

( ... I'm speaking with my heart. And ... )

love, all my kisses

sizzle on your sweet cheeks,

making me ask, 'Lord, from whence

do these blessings speak?'

Oh, like a coming of age,

I have now arrived

at a peace

eternal. All demons are tamed.

( ... may my love fill you as you've filled me,

darling.)