Just coming back from deep in the wood,
Surprised by a sight; I ran fast as I could.
Upon reaching our hearth truth had to be spoke:
“I know what happened to your plum tree, dear,
On the hill over yonder I saw the culprit near.
Though this may sound funny, it is sure no joke.”
I caught a glimpse as I saw it scurry,
Short and brown, its four legs furry.
Bubbling at the mouth, needle teeth barred,
Many an orchard this creature had killed –
My death would be next, if only it willed.
It jumped to attack and now I too am scarred.
We fought ferocious with scream and growl,
It took all my plums; a pain just fowl.
That hurt was worse than its scratches and bites
Because with all my fury the pain was merely brief.
Alas, I killed the creature behind my stomach’s grief;
Now I too have the marks of nature’s squirrelly plights.