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| 'HERE LIES A TREE' Here lies a tree which Owl (a bird) Was fond of when it stood on end, And Owl was talking to a friend Called me(in case you hadn't heard) When something Oo occurred. For lo! the wind was blusterous And flattened out his favorite tree; And things looked bad for him and we - Looked bad, I mean, for he and us - I've never known them wuss. Then Piglet (PIGLET) thought a thing: "Courage!" he said. "There's always hope. I want a thinnish piece of rope. Or, if there isn't any, bring A thickish piece of string." So to the letter box he rose, While Pooh and Owl said "Oh!" and "Hum!" And where the letters always come (Called "LETTERS ONLY") Piglet sqoze His head and then his toes. O gallant Piglet (PIGLET)! Ho! Did Piglet tremble? Did he blinch? No, no, he struggled inch by inch Through LETTERS ONLY, as I know Because I saw him go. He ran and ran, and then he stood And shouted "Help for Owl, a bird, And Pooh, a bear!" until he heard The others coming through the wood As quickly as they could. "Help-Help and Rescue!" Piglet cried, And showed the others where to go. (Sing ho! for Piglet (PIGLET) ho!) And soon the door was opened wide, And we were both outside! Sing ho! for Piglet, ho! Ho! |
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| Help |
| Help |
| POEM BY EEYORE - SIGNED BY EVERYONE Christopher Robin is going. At least I think he is. Where? Nobody knows. But he is going - I mean he goes (To rhyme with "knows") Do we care? (To rhyme with "where") We do Very much. (I haven't got a rhyme for that "is" in the second line yet. Bother.) (Now I haven't got a rhyme for bother. Bother.) Those two bothers will have to rhyme with each other Buther. The fact is this is more difficult than I thought, I ought - (Very good indeed!) I ought To begin again, But it is easier to stop. Christopher Robin, good-bye, I (Good) I And all your friends Sends - I mean all your friends Send - (Very awkward this, it keeps going wrong.) Well, anyhow, we send Our love END. |
| WARM AND SUNNY SPOT |
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| THOUGHTS I lay on my chest And I thought it best To pretend I was having a evening rest; I lay on my tum And I tried to hum But nothing particular seemed to come My face was flat On the floor, and that Is all very well for an acrobat; But it doesn't seem fair To a Friendly Bear To stiffen him out with a backet-chair. And sort of squoze Which grows and grows Is not too nice for his poor old noce, And sort of squch Is much to much For his neck and his mouth and his ears and such. |
This warm and sunny spot Belongs to Pooh, And here he wonders what He is going to do. Oh, bother, I forget It's Piglet's too |
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