Cyril The Squirrel Poem by Micronjan (also use name micron)

Cyril the Squirrel, tail like a broom,
Spied the bird feeder up in the gloom.
Seeds glimmered like gold—oh, what a prize!
He twitched his nose and prepared to rise.

The Slippery Pole of Doom blocked the way,
He leapt… whoosh! … and slid into the hay.
Next, the Springy Pole—boing! —he flew,
Somersaulted, twirled… landed in glue?

The clothesline of destiny was his next plan,
He scampered and leapt like a furry rubber man.
He hit the baffle—bonk! —hung upside down,
Flailing his paws, looking like a nutty crown.

Zigzag, spin, hop, and a bouncing prance,
The feeder mocked him with every chance.
He twisted, he flipped, he almost touched gold,
But gravity laughed—oh, that feeder was bold!

At last, a tiny seed plopped right his way,
Cyril snatched it—victory, hooray!
"Tomorrow, " he squeaked, "I'll try once more,
No pole, spring, or baffle can stop me, for sure!