Work Text:
I’ve many a plant in my garden
Some flowered, some twisting, some green
And central and tall, the pride of them all:
A nourishing mango tree
Today, as I wandered my garden,
Awash in the croon of the creek,
I heard from the ground a puzzling sound:
A mix betwixt sobs and a sqeak.
I came and inspected, and at last detected
Eight feet and four ears and two snouts
Perplexed — what a hex! Infested with pests! —
I’m told that I gave quite the shout.
“Two mice have invaded my garden!
They’ve conquered the tree I adore
They sleep in its roots; they’re eating its fruits
I must set some snares in this war.”
I turned, then, to fight for my garden
But stilled as the wind brought a voice.
A similar squeal to what caused my ordeal,
Yet I felt my feet halt out of choice:
“These mice mean no harm to your garden.
I beg you, don’t act uninformed.
See, yesterday eve, these mice were bereaved,
My soul swept away in a storm.
“I’ve always admired your garden;
This tree I adored most of all.
Do not attack craven: my home is their haven
They stay to revere, to recall."
I paused, discontented; though riddled, relented.
I too know the pain of a loss.
A hole in a soul that has lost its control:
To console it is well worth the cost.
Now, many plants bloom in my garden
But more than a hall, it’s a home
For here every night, two mice find their light,
In the ward of their mango tree