Squirrel Talk - Poem by Ima Ryma
Up in a tree upon a bough,
A squirrel sat and looked around.
A stern look came upon his brow;
He quickly raced down to the ground.
The squirrel scampered through the grass,
While stopping every now and then,
To be assured of no trespass
Into his private wooded glen.
Each time he stopped, he'd dig a hole,
As though in search of something lost.
The squirrel should have been a mole.
More clumps of dirt got turned and tossed.
The squirrel paused and said, 'Tut-tut, '
'Where did I bury that damn nut? '
Comments about Squirrel Talk by Ima Ryma
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You