The Mouse who dreamed of flight Part 1

Here’s something random I just wrote for fun.

A mouse named Cecil dreamt of flying every single night.

His whiskers whisking through the clouds, horizons clear and bright

Yet earthy was the world he knew, all dirt and mud and dank.

And shallow were the aims of those who all around him sank.

Each morning as the sun rose high he joined its warming rise

And waited patiently until the wings cut through the skies.

He stole an hour every day to watch the way they flew

Then huddled in his den each night and wrote down all he knew.

And every evening at last light he hunted low and high

In search of all the things he’d need to join them in the sky.

A mouse was looking at Mario- The Cricket In Times Square