The Rat

 

A giant rat sat next to me

And put a napkin on its knee.

Then from a battered, aged tin,

It took a sandwich, small and thin.

 

The sandwich was precisely cut,

(Neatly done without a crust),

And sparsely spread, between each slice,

A smudge of butter did suffice.

 

And then, just like a new spring rose,

It held the snack up to its nose,

Then closed its eyes in sweet retreat,

While sniffing at the buttery treat.

 

 

Slowly, slowly, hunger-led,

It put its lips upon the bread

And held them there as if to savour

Every single ounce of flavour.

 

Then with pleasure scarce held back,

It closed its jaws around the snack

As, chew by chew, it satisfied,

The hunger that so burned inside.

 

Bit by bit and bite by bite,

The rat devoured with pure delight,

Until upon its ratty thumb,

It came across the final crumb.

 

 

It stared at it with wistful eyes,

Released the saddest, deepest sigh,

Then held its thumb out to a bird,

Who ate the crumb without a word.

 

With that the rat benignly smiled

And stared at nothing for a while,

Then wiped some butter from its chin

And placed the napkin in the tin.

 

Then tiredly, its meal complete,

It raised itself onto its feet

And, with a glance at those around,

Departed on the road for town.

 

A giant rat

Sat next to me

And had a sandwich

For its tea!