Flying squirrels invaded our barn,
at least four hundred and twenty.
Might have exaggerated a little,
there might not been that many.
They flew around here and there,
and jumped on the horse's backs.
Pulled horse hair to make a nest,
and carried it away in packs.
The old horse was in a dither,
the young horse had enough.
She snapped, bucked, and kicked,
said it was time to get rough.
She took off kicking high,
grabbed her toy the jolly ball.
Smacked about a dozen of them.
right up against the wall.
The rest took off in a hurry,
jumped into the hay manger.
They were scurrying everywhere,
trying to flee from danger.
They flew to the hayloft,
they were eating hay seed.
One must have been the boss,
the others followed its lead.
They tore open hay bales,
chewed through the hay string.
opened up the hayloft doors,
where a hundred more did cling.
They must be absent minded,
they forgot about the horse.
They went back in the barn,
she got after them of course.
She snatched up the jolly ball,
she smacked a dozen or more.
When she hit the second batch,
they went flying out the door.
One stuck its head under the door,
said I wanted some of your food.
I see we can't get along with you,
cause you're in a terrible mood.
They bunched up outside the barn,
were four hundred and thirty-three.
They went limping into the woods,
it was much safer to live in a tree.
That's the story of the flying squirrels,
and of how they came and went.
It happened pretty much that way,
though the truth was a little bit bent.
Copyright © 2007 Roy & Jo Ann Lovelace. All Rights Reserved.
