A mouse named McTavisham-Smith
Was uncommonly fond of fruit pith.
He ate lemons sometimes,
Often kumquats and limes,
So to say he loved cheese’d be myth…
Marjorie mouse was a horder
Who loved chaos and rampant disorder.
She kept bits, bobs and ends,
Stockpiled fluff over friends,
And ne’er puzzled why neatness so bored her…
More substantive, less laboured-rhyming content later, but I must get me to a decent stationer, pronto, in pursuit of non-cheapo pencils that will, hopefully, withstand a passing glance (perhaps I can even hope for some modest usage?) without dissolving into a million little graphite shards… Ah, the false economy that is buying in bulk of abundant, but sub-standard, materials.