Toad and Mouse

In a small grey box by the side of the road
There lived a lively but slightly damp toad
With a thimble of tea and a loaf of bread
And a strip of twine he wrapped round his head.
He spent his days in modest joy
By whatever means he could employ
Which usually meant a song and a dance
And a tipple of tea when he got the chance.
And sometimes a visit from his friend the mouse
Who was also fond of toad's cardboard house
And fond of his tea and his twine-wrapped hat.
Some might say he was jealous at that
But the mouse and the toad were the firmest of friends
And they'd dance all day until night descends
And the time it came to leave toad's abode
And cross the long and tarmacky road
Which, it has to be said, was a dangerous spree
Especially when one had been tippling tea.
Now mouse, he ran, but toad, he just hopped
And the large white van, it never stopped.
And now it's mouse who dwells in the cardboard box
And instead of a hat he wears twine socks
Which keep his toes quite warm and dry
As the cold winter nights pass him by
And he mournfully sings by the thimble of tea
Of his old friend toad and how jolly he'd be
And if only on that fateful night
He'd looked to the left as well as the right
And hopped with perhaps just a little more vigour
Then toad might still have kept his figure.
But the cloud is silver-lined, thought mouse,
For he bequeathed to me this beautiful house
And this thimble of tea and this loaf of bread
And this twine, which I wear round my feet instead.
But as I sit by the side of the road
I admit I miss my dear friend toad.