On a Christmouse night

The mice were rushing. Getting ready.

Tuning instruments, nice and steady.

Wrapping up warm against the cold.

Young mice doing what they're told.

An important night for every mouse,

Singing carols from house to house.

They'd all worked hard  and practiced long

To learn the words to every song.

Tuffy Plonker had come to stay.

He was stopping until New years day,

And Walter was glad he'd come to stop.

Straight in his xylophone with one big hop.

He was proudly wearing his nice new hat,

That Tina had knitted. He was proud of that.

She'd made a matching scarf for him too.

He was warm as toast. No chance of flu.

Keys was wearing a squashed piano?

'What on earth is that?' Tupper wanted to know.

'It's called an accordion. it's easy to hold.

Just right for playing tunes in the cold.'

'Everyone ready?  Come on let's go.'

Then off they went through the winter snow.

They came to a house and knocked on the door.

'All together on the count of four.'

"Good King Mouselas looked out

On the Feast of Cheesen.

Where the cheese lay round about.

Cheddar, brie and edam."

A mouse family came and stood at the door.

'Hurray.' They asked. 'Can we have one more?'

'Just one,' said the mice. 'We've a lot to do.

Everyone now on the count of two.'

The mice sang out, hearty and strong

Just one more though, they couldn't stop long.

'Merry Christmouse!' they cried to the mice at the door

'And the same to you!'  and they waved a paw.

The mice walked through snow, crisp and clear,

Excited when the next house drew near

'Ready Mice? Sing nice and loud.'

As out of the house came a little crowd.

The mice sang out, strong and hearty

Ready to please the little party.

"Ding Dong mousily on High.

In mouseland mice are singing.

Ding dong Santa Paws is nigh

His presents he is bringing."

'Wonderful!' clapped the mice all around.

'You really made a Christmousey sound.'

They fetched mince pies and cups of punch,

And cake as well for the mice to munch.

'How awfully kind, and Happy Christmouse.'

'We'd better get going to the next house.'

And off they went, Bongo holding a light,

Through the snow on a winter's night.

Walter nice and snug inside.

Enjoying his portable  xylophone ride. 

They saw a light shine up ahead.

'There's the next house,' Fiddlina said.

They all tuned up and checked their score.

'Nice and loud mice. Just one more.'

"Silent Mouse, Holy mouse.

Sleeping calm. In the house.

Dreams of cheese and ice cream  and ham,

Sandwiches and cake and jam.

Merry Christmouse is here.

Merry Christmouse is here."

An elderly couple stood at the door

'Bravo!' they clapped. 'More! More!'

The mice tuned up and sang out loud.

They really did feel awfully proud.

'A lovely surprise,' the old lady said.

'And before you go you'll need to be fed.'

She went inside, then came back out,

And  mugs of soup she handed out.

The mice stood and drank in the snow

Walter danced along Fiddlina's bow.

Young Walter though had looked inside.

While the xylophone was a comfie ride,

In the house, what did he see?

A nice big sparkly Christmas tree.

His eyes lit up and out he hopped,

And straight in the Christmas tree he popped.

'Come back here!' poor Tuffy yelled.

 Walter liked how the Christmas tree smelled.

He found a hole and went inside.

'Oh Walter no!' the mice all cried.

The lady said 'Oh don't despair.

There's a way to get him out of there.'

She went to the kitchen and soon came back,

And wafted something towards the crack.

'A hot mince pie smells so good,

Much better than the sparkly wood.'

Walter popped his head right out.

'There he is!' Tuffy gave a shout.

The lady dropped the pie in a box.

'A worm's not difficult to out fox.'

Out of the tree and straight inside,

He ate his own mince pie with pride.

'Come on young mice, time for bed.'

'We really enjoyed it,' the old couple said.

The mice walked home, happy and bright,

Enjoying the peace of the calm, Christmas night

They all walked and looked up at the sky,

Wondering if Santa Paws was up high.

They all thought they'd been good this year,

So they hung their stockings with a hearty cheer.

Walter had one stuck on his drum,

He was hoping for goodies to fill up his tum.  

They all went to bed, and straight to sleep.

Dreaming of stockings, filled so deep.

The mice wish each and every house

A very happy, jolly Christmouse