Cyril the Squirrel
Cyril the squirrel has gone too far
He’s mind must be unstable
He gnawed the plastic of the base
Of the feeder on my bird table
I replaced it with a metal one
All glitz and steel and shiny
His teeth too big to penetrate
The holes which are quite tiny
No problem for a blue tit
A sparrow or a robin
But for a squirrel - not so good
He cannot get his gob in
And so to spite me – took revenge
When I went out to look
The feeder lay upon the ground
He’d flicked it off the hook
Seed and fruit dispersed along
The narrow flower bed
He’s sitting somewhere looking down
Bloated - fully fed
Now this means war you grey haired rat
I’ve had about enough
No more Mr Nice Guy
I am going to get tough
I’ll catch you – put you in a box
And take you far away
To Borneo where you’ll be on
The Road to Mandalay
No more will our pots be o’erturned
No more the ground bespattered
With soil and debris all around
Expensive bulbs all scattered
Across the lawn upon the path
Chewed ‘til their destruction
Who did it? Need I say his name?
He needs no introduction.
