Skirting boards creak at night

With scratches and nibbles aplenty,

We knock three times and hide in fright

Wondering if mice ever visit the gentry.

Tick, tock goes the clock

At one, three and four,

Tim hopes he has fit a lock

On each and every door.

With baggy eyes we fall asleep

As dawn begins to break,

When a dripping noise starts to creep,

The mouse has left us with a lake!