In the tree of grandest oak
Lives the nimble creature
His lithe feet run across
Velocity is his feature.
I watch him as he skips
And pulls the acorn off the stem,
Nibbles it with lavish speed
Eyes shining like a gem.
I watch the acorn being shelled
And he noshes in joy the nut
To steal from neighbours’ garden,
Only squirrels have the gut!
First in line, the shapely head
Then the triply brushed stripe
Upon the downy back of him
Last, the tail of bushy type.
Oh twinkle-eyed squirrel of mine
So sharp are your mind and eyes
Your sweet adorability to me
Never and ever dies.
Tapasmi 