Gone the days of fruitful plenty

gone those Indian Summer days

Winter's dearth lies fell upon us

e'en the sane know the hunger craze.

Now's the time when Man must rally

aid the wild folk in their need

spread a platter fair before them

 with nut and berry,  fruit and seed.

Flocking in from near and far

twittering birds fall on the bounty  

then come the squirrels to the table

bushy tailed, bright eyed and bouncy.

A ravening hoard, a silver fur tide

a raucous band intent on plunder

in they sweep teeth all a chatter

morning peace rent all asunder.

Squirrels swarming, fighting, swearing

the grey clad pirates of the wood

snatching, grabbing, nipping, thieving

doing all a Pirate should.

Every morning they advance undaunted

performing in line the squirrel haka

one for all an' all for one they're marching

'till they reach the unseen marker!

Then 'tis every squirrel for himself

a-hitting those tables fully laden

'Tis "Get in lad and help yourself!"

  (there's not one demur squirrel maiden).