An acorn fell from a mighty tree

And lay upon the ground;

A tasty morsel for a squirrel to see,

To hide so as not to be found.


The squirrel went off to search for more

And a jackdaw entered the plot;

He stuck his head in the squirrel’s store,

Stealing the acorn so easy to spot.


The piebald raider soared off with his prize,

A successful thief in full flight;

But with a slip of the beak and anguished cries,

The acorn dell down out of sight.


As the bird circled round, a wandering fawn,

Stepped on the nut where it lay;

A dainty push of a hoof and it was gone,

The magpie barred from the play.


The acorn now in the dark and damp,

Hidden from fur and feather;

Lying unseen by the sun’s piercing lamp

And creatures that graze or gather.


Coming of spring then warmed up the soil

And the acorn felt it and woke;

Curled seedling within being told to unfold,

Then upwards it started to poke.


The life of an Oak had now begun,

Anchored well in the ground;

A sturdy perch for birds to have fun,

With squirrels running around.


Monty Alexander 17.2.99



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