From Alaska to Zanzibar the poets are out
They’re searching and hunting and looking about
The hunt is on, the call is being shouted out loud
The poets well versed are searching all round
In cupboards and sheds and holes in the ground
They’ll keep searching until that ferret is found.
They scramble about like mouse hunting cats
Reciting some prose in case ferrets like that
They’ve heard many stories of ferrets abound
And even up legs of trousers are found
Those furry mammals with teeth oh so bright
That when they are bared they give quite a fright.
The poets are hunting high up and low down
And when they have found him they’ll call you around
And while they are waiting they’ll play for a while
With the ferret you’ve lost since the end of last year
And gave herald to a ferretless and lonely new dawn
Since the day TM celebrated that Christ was past born.
Sir Dave, I'll never forget your efforts in regard to finding my beloved ferret. I now believe my lost pet may have been abducted by Barak Obama...., because I heard he was lurking and looking for votes in the New York area during Yuletide at Wal-Mart....! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What can I say Dave? ? ? thanks for sharing? ~~~~~~didn't know Trade had a ferret. They bite you know and smell....I never would picture him with one...Clever write, it's nice to see you here young man........love, Marci.xo~~~