Spring Squirrel

I’ll start the spring with a poem for the bushy-tailed tree climber that delighted me today.

squirrel

squirrel

    The Squirrel
    by John B. Tabb
    Who combs you, little Squirrel?
    And do you twist and twirl
    When some one puts the papers on
    To keep your tail in curl?
    And must you see the dentist
    For every tooth you break?
    And are you apt from eating nuts
    To get the stomach-ache?
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