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Poetress2 Apr 20
Squirrels gather nuts,
to prepare for the Winter.
They plan very well.
We love the sun.
   Squirrels run
In trees up high,

Because it's spring
   Birds sing,
And so do I,
Juhlhaus Feb 21
I sat outside today eating sushi and miso soup in the sun
Some squirrels came by and stared at me hopefully
I put a bit of miso soup in the lid and set it out for them
But they weren't interested
Then a gust of cold wind blew the lid over and the soup was spilled
One of the squirrels went for the crumbs in an old potato chip bag instead
A somewhat poetic anecdote from my lunch hour.
K Balachandran Oct 2018
Squirrels begin vocals,
Ravens join issue with them;
Racuous symphony!
sunprincess Oct 2018
I brake for turtles and squirrels
Pretty much anything that creeps or crawls
Unless it's pitch black in the country,
And the moon is on holiday
Then it's clobbered likd the armadillo,
And so is my conscience
Actually had to brake for a squirrel today
He stopped in the road and sat there
with an acorn in his mouth
Had to blow the horn three times before he moved
K Balachandran Jun 2018
rain bird serenades,
Squirrels play second fiddle;
ravens party-****!
Peter Balkus Mar 2018
I was circled today
by a gang of squirrels
in Terrace Gardens in Richmond.
There were like five of them.

They were getting closer and closer
and I was scared
that they would jump on me
and worse.
But they didn't even try.
It was an innocent,
very formidable gang.

They were running around me,
trying to find out
what I am:
A monster?
A big nut?
But then they quickly run off
to their squirrel world.

I still wonder why
they greeted me with happiness,
not with fright...
Maybe they realized
that I am on their side.
let the gawkers
make haste
may thier
frozen clay


clung teardrops

my depths deaths
shall they swallow
birds admiration

that an bird would ask it's wings
why it it you choose
to feather me
tickle me

ask let why
that my flesh be

say not
let the gawkers

Grant Dickson Oct 2017
You see me Hurrying and scurrying
Gathering my food cautiously,
Looking around constantly worrying
Sneaking around precociously.

Weaving; bobbing, always dodging
Bushy tailed little scavenger I am,
So may despise me as I dwell in their lodging
But all I want is a home so don't give a dam.

Climbing my tree like a famous mountaineer
Old and young will wave or sit and say hello,
Quickly I think it's time to evacuate from here
The all clear I see and again on the ground I go.

Fluffy and Grey sometimes even Red
Speeding around among the leaves,
Time to nest and put my children to bed
Until once more the summer itself retrieves.

Grant Dickson 04/09/2017

This poem was inspired by a Squirrel
This poem was inspired by one of my vocal tutors who had posted a you tube blog and was sat in her car when she suddenly saw a Squirrel and proceeded to wave at it and say hello.
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