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Gone the days of fruitful plenty
gone those Indian Summer days
Winter's dearth lies fell upon us
e'en the sane know the hunger craze.
Now's the time when Man must rally
aid the wild folk in their need
spread a platter fair before them
with nut and berry, fruit and seed.
Flocking in from near and far
twittering birds fall on the bounty
then come the squirrels to the table
bushy tailed, bright eyed and bouncy.
A ravening hoard, a silver fur tide
a raucous band intent on plunder
in they sweep teeth all a chatter
morning peace rent all asunder.
Squirrels swarming, fighting, swearing
the grey clad pirates of the wood
snatching, grabbing, nipping, thieving
doing all a Pirate should.
Every morning they advance undaunted
performing in line the squirrel haka
one for all an' all for one they're marching
'till they reach the unseen marker!
Then 'tis every squirrel for himself
a-hitting those tables fully laden
'Tis "Get in lad and help yourself!"
(there's not one demur squirrel maiden).
