MICES All the room is dressed so fall-ish, And the Pilgrims stand quite tall-ish; Summer’s throngs are home from churling, In the ocean’s waves unfurling; Kiddies are ensconced in schooling, Lest they spend much time in fooling. Autumn leaves are down and crunching; Time for TV and snack munching; Where instead has my peace squandered, In the wall, those mice have wandered. In the wall are scratching, scratching, Scratching, scratching; And the quiet time are snatching; While they work in hurried frenzy; Will there never be an endsy, To the nasty, pesky mices, Making me forget my niceness? --Phyllis Lovelace House November 7, 2010