The Squirrel

Once upon an autumn day, I saw an apple-core decay,
Eating apples from the tree and wanting many more.
While I sat there, calmly chewing, suddenly I heard some mewing,
The only sound was mewing, mewing louder than before.
"Tis baby squirrels," I said, "mewing louder than before."
Only this and nothing more.

Very clearly I recall it was in the peak of fall.
While eating well were many farmers, going hungry were the poor.
As I turned and saw the hole, my searching eyes found their goal;
Fourteen squirrels fretting for some food sat upon their tree-house floor.
Baby squirrels fretting for some food sat upon their tree-house floor.
Only this and nothing more.

Appeared the did the mother squirrel, counting every boy and every girl,
Drawing towards her darling dears sitting on the floor.
Fussing with the little runts, attempting to quiet their hungry grunts.
She turned around and right through me her angry gaze did bore,
"I did no harm," I said. "So stare at me no more."
Only this and nothing more.

As the mother squirrel approached me, I slowly slipped out of the tree,
Falling to the ground and making all my muscles sore.
Sitting up from off a stump, into the squirrel my arm did bump.
"Ms. Squirrel," I said, "I did no harm so bother me no more.
Just go back into your tree and stay there forever more."
Quoth the squirrel, "Apple-core."

Suddenly my anger grew and towards the squirrel my left hand flew.
She dodged my hand and I madly shouted, "This now means war."
She looked at me with vengeful eyes until she heard her children's cries.
A new anger filled her stare, and down the tree her body tore.
Through the leaves and branches her little body tore,
Only this and nothing more.

Very quickly I did stand, for on my shoulder she did land.
Running from the tree, I headed for the door.
Dropping down onto one knee, I rattled off a frantic plea.
"Please, Ms. Squirrel, get off my back and threaten me no more."
Again I pleaded, "Please, threaten me no more."
Quoth the squirrel, "Apple-core."

Frantically, I began to think, There has to be a missing link,
A link that connects the mother squirrel to her apple-core.
Finally, it came to me, "Yes! That's it! It has to be!
Now I know the answer, but I must get to the door."
"Please, Ms. Squirrel. I'll help you if you let me reach the door,"
Quoth the squirrel, "Apple-core."

The mother squirrel climbed down from me, and out of my pocket I pulled a key.
Walking towards my house and unlocking my front door.
In I went, then out I came, carrying my missing link.
To the squirrel I said, "Here's your precious, treasured apple-core."
Up the tree she quickly ran, holding her precious apple-core.
"Good-bye," I said, "forever more."