Something small and domestic has gone wrong in this short poem. A plate sits empty, "full of air alone," and the speaker's first reaction is an exclamation: "O rat." It reads like a muttered curse, a half-comic groan, as if someone has just realized the food is gone or the meal has been spoiled. The phrase "full of air" is a neat paradox: the plate holds nothing, yet the emptiness feels almost solid.
Then the tone shifts. "The little prince" suddenly "proclaimed a war." We can't know for certain who this prince is, but the phrase suggests a small, bossy child, or perhaps a pet, acting like a tiny ruler whose hunger or displeasure becomes a declaration of conflict. The poem seems to treat a petty household upset with mock-grand language.
The mood is wry and playful, with a hint of weariness. The title, "Diversion," fits: a trivial moment briefly becomes a grand drama.