The thief comes sneaking in
On little possum feet,
Looking round and round
For something good to eat.
On little possum feet,
Looking round and round
For something good to eat.
Cat food, eggs or scraps,
Just whatever he can find.
He’s looking for some food,
Doesn’t matter much what kind.
Just whatever he can find.
He’s looking for some food,
Doesn’t matter much what kind.
Just wait until tomorrow
When the dark descends once more,
And I bet this little rascal
Will again be at the door.
When the dark descends once more,
And I bet this little rascal
Will again be at the door.
When he’s munched up ev’ry bit
Of food within his sight,
He scurries fast away,
Back out into the night.
Of food within his sight,
He scurries fast away,
Back out into the night.
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{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }
Great poem and pic.