Poppy the Squirrel

Poppy the squirrel, Poppy the squirrel.

With an injured leg and a tail that curls.

I chase them all around my yard.

A slippery minx, to catch is hard.

I set out traps, they slide right through.

They do not trust what humans do.

I want to help, they do not know

I must catch them before the snow.

For it must be on both our mind,

When winter comes, foods hard to find.

Poor Poppy is skinny and weak,

And skipping meals seems awful bleak.

They’re only hope, if they only knew,

Is to let me see my mission through.

For once they’re mine, safe and sound,

They'll go to rehab, their leg be bound.

And then once more they’ll frolic free,

Sleeping soundly in their favorite tree.

Poor Poppy