What Grandpa Mouse Said

    The moon's a holy owl-queen.
    She keeps them in a jar
    Under her arm till evening,
    Then sallies forth to war.

    She pours the owls upon us.
    They hoot with horrid noise
    And eat the naughty mousie-girls
    And wicked mousie-boys.

    So climb the moonvine every night
    And to the owl-queen pray:
    Leave good green cheese by moonlit trees
    For her to take away.

    And never squeak, my children,
    Nor gnaw the smoke-house door:
    The owl-queen then will love us
    And send her birds no more.

Vachel Lindsay

Vachel Lindsay was an American poet known for his innovative performances of his poetry, which combined spoken word with music and theatrics. Born in Springfield, Illinois, Lindsay's work often revolved around American history and culture, reflecting his progressive social views. He played a significant role in the early 20th-century American poetry scene, influencing contemporaries and later poets with his dynamic style and passionate delivery.

Vachel Lindsay

The Queen of Bubbles

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

Drying their Wings

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

The Lion

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

What the Rattlesnake Said

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Mouse that gnawed the Oak-tree Down

    The mouse that gnawed the oak-tree down
    Began his task in early life.
    He kept so busy with his teeth
    He had no time to take a wife.

    He gnawed and gnawed through sun and rain
    When the ambitious fit was on,
    Then rested in the sawdust till
    A month of idleness had gone.

    He did not move about to hunt
    The coteries of mousie-men.
    He was a snail-paced, stupid thing
    Until he cared to gnaw again.

    The mouse that gnawed the oak-tree down,
    When that tough foe was at his feet -
    Found in the stump no angel-cake
    Nor buttered bread, nor cheese, nor meat -
    The forest-roof let in the sky.
    "This light is worth the work," said he.
    "I'll make this ancient swamp more light,"
...

Vachel Lindsay

What the Hyena Said

    The moon is but a golden skull,
    She mounts the heavens now,
    And Moon-Worms, mighty Moon-Worms
    Are wreathed around her brow.

    The Moon-Worms are a doughty race:
    They eat her gray and golden face.
    Her eye-sockets dead, and molding head:
    These caverns are their dwelling-place.

    The Moon-Worms, serpents of the skies,
    From the great hollows of her eyes
    Behold all souls, and they are wise:
    With tiny, keen and icy eyes,
    Behold how each man sins and dies.

    When Earth in gold-corruption lies
    Long dead, the moon-worm butterflies
    On cyclone wings will reach this place -
    Yea, rear their brood on earth's dead face.

Vachel Lindsay

What the Forester Said

    The moon is but a candle-glow
    That flickers thro' the gloom:
    The starry space, a castle hall:
    And Earth, the children's room,
    Where all night long the old trees stand
    To watch the streams asleep:
    Grandmothers guarding trundle-beds:
    Good shepherds guarding sheep.

Vachel Lindsay

Popcorn, Glass Balls, and Cranberries (As it were)

        I. The Lion


    The Lion is a kingly beast.
    He likes a Hindu for a feast.
    And if no Hindu he can get,
    The lion-family is upset.

    He cuffs his wife and bites her ears
    Till she is nearly moved to tears.
    Then some explorer finds the den
    And all is family peace again.



        II.    An Explanation of the Grasshopper


    The Grasshopper, the grasshopper,
    I will explain to you: -
    He is the Brownies' racehorse,
    The fairies' Kangaroo.



        III.    The Dangerous Little Boy Fairies


    In fairyland the little boys
    Would rather fight than eat their meals.
    They like to chase a gauze-winged fly
    And catch and beat him till he ...

Vachel Lindsay

The Mice and the Owl.

A pine was by a woodman fell'd,
Which ancient, huge, and hollow tree
An owl had for his palace held -
A bird the Fates had kept in fee,
Interpreter to such as we.
Within the caverns of the pine,
With other tenants of that mine,
Were found full many footless mice,
But well provision'd, fat, and nice.
The bird had bit off all their feet,
And fed them there with heaps of wheat.
That this owl reason'd, who can doubt?
When to the chase he first went out,
And home alive the vermin brought,
Which in his talons he had caught,
The nimble creatures ran away.
Next time, resolved to make them stay,
He cropp'd their legs, and found, with pleasure,
That he could eat them at his leisure;
It were impossible to eat
Them all at once, did health permit.
...

Jean de La Fontaine

Yet Gentle will the Griffin Be

(Moon Poems for the Children/Fairy-tales for the Children)
        (What Grandpa told the Children)


    The moon?    It is a griffin's egg,
    Hatching to-morrow night.
    And how the little boys will watch
    With shouting and delight
    To see him break the shell and stretch
    And creep across the sky.
    The boys will laugh.    The little girls,
    I fear, may hide and cry.
    Yet gentle will the griffin be,
    Most decorous and fat,
    And walk up to the milky way
    And lap it like a cat.

Vachel Lindsay