I sat there thinking, thought I heard
a noise from above, overhead.
I couldn’t describe in a word
so I started to read instead.

I did, I heard the patter of
little feet that moved out of sight.
I ran to my room, grabbed a glove
and my trusty rusty flashlight.

I pulled away the ceiling tile
to see what had tweaked both my ears.
This thing unseen brought a wry smile
in spite of a twinge of light fears.

The light did shine a narrow beam
from corner to corner and back.
A glimpse of tail from a small seam
spurred me on toward the attack.

I ran into the spare bedroom
where the guns and ammo reside.
Night vision goggles on high zoom
and cammies for stealth and to hide.

The bayonet was locked in place
on the Seven Six Two magnum.
I smeared on the green and black paste
and loaded a fifty round drum.

Laces long on a warriors boots
were tied ever tight for the fight
dogged to be the one who shoots
I kicked on the thousand watt light.

I peeked again into the space
where the tail was seen in the crack.
And what I saw put a grin on my face
I decided not to attack.

For in the space above my chair
a mouse eating PB and J
had made a move to dine and share
and I decided he could stay.

The night before Christmas and all the mice are not making a peep.  
So if you do need to hunt I have some special critters for ya and as big as mice...hehehe
Great poetic story, thoroughly enjoyed.
Cher