Ted Nashe
On a wing and a prayer
W. B. Yeats dedicated this poem to a squirrel:
To a Squirrel at Kyle-na-no.
Come play with me;
Why should you run
Through the shaking tree
As though I'd a gun
To strike you dead?
When all I would do
Is to scratch your head
And let you go.
It's plain to see that Mr Yeats never suffered the pain of seeing his bird feeders destroyed by one of the little ********. I certainly wouldn't be letting it go!
To a Squirrel at Kyle-na-no.
Come play with me;
Why should you run
Through the shaking tree
As though I'd a gun
To strike you dead?
When all I would do
Is to scratch your head
And let you go.
It's plain to see that Mr Yeats never suffered the pain of seeing his bird feeders destroyed by one of the little ********. I certainly wouldn't be letting it go!
