The Aspiring Bard

Rustle, scuffle, scurry, scurry, Winter's coming, Hurry, hurry! Sniffing nose and active paws, Treasured acorn Clutched in jaws, Little squirrel goes questing, seeking Through the dead leaves Searching, peeking. Red tail twitching urgently, As he seeks With industry. Discontent with one small treasure, He must gather More together. Rustle, scuffle, scurry, scurry, Winter's coming, Hurry, hurry!

Please give me a room, A room with a view (Don't care if the color Is gloomiest blue). A view of the war. A view of two trees. View of a baby And two victories. Just give me a room, A room with a view. A place I can stand And look up at You.