To a mouse.

First thing today, as I filled the kettle, I saw a wee beastie being bullied by the spadgers. The following came to my mind.

Wee, sleekit, cow’rin’, tim’rous beastie,

Oh, what a panic’s in thy breastie!

Thou need na start awa sae hasty,

Wi’ bickering brattle!

I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee

Wi’ murd’ring pattle!

It was a feeling that persisted.

Nice one Rabbi!
Burns that is.