"In Praise of Bushy Tails"


They call you vermin and say you do harm.
They blame you for disease and spread wild alarm;
But all I can think as you climb up my arm
   is . . .
      I love you, Bushy Tail.


Ever since I was small I've watched you in parks,
Gath'ring acorns and playing—you had such great larks;
And as I played with you my only remarks
   were . . .
      I love you, Bushy Tail.


Then as I grew older my tastes changed a lot,
But you, friendly squirrel, deserted me not.
The words from the past that I never forgot
   are . . .
      I love you, Bushy Tail.


Now I'm middle aged, my thoughts more profound.
Still I go to the park, put my hand on the ground
Offering nuts for the taking, and you gather round.
   yes . . .
      I'll always love you, Bushy Tail.

 

By John M Ward © 1993