Behind the bush lay the little black buck,
A venomous arrow, in his heart was stuck;
From behind a tree had shot the hunter,
Had his eyes set on the buck; the dirty predator.
On a cold winter night, it did snow,
Where the sword into the earth did sow,
A strange essence was carried in the air-
Scent of a battle not played fair;
The parrot pecked on the little Red apple,
As he wondered on, how tasted the sugar of maple?
He thought if it would as precious and sweet,
But was sure, its taste would make him tweet.
With heavy eyes I stared down at the book
Reading through every corner and nook
Of every word and each and every letter,
Trying to read something that would help me understand their creator.