The woods are deep
In which I sleep ...
Some deer haunt
Chipmunks vaunt
Some birds nest
Others test ...
Squirrels most
When they coast
Into my abode ...
In days past, they rode
Down chimney flue
Making me blue ...
... They no longer endear
When they come too near
For the woods are deep
And when they just peep
At me thru glass, I smile
For in here, they are vile
But, outside - they are sweet
They can scurry, or eat ...
As long as they stay
Well out of my way
Beyond glass is good
Within the bare woods
- Tristram
(c) Christopher W. Thomas
8:10am Sat. Dec. 19th, 1998