Wot More
Koalas
How
doth the little lazy bear
Snooze
through each passing hour
Munching
on scented leaves
In her
eucalyptus bower.
How skilfully
she strips eat branch
How fuzzy
is her hair
Just
how shocked would be her stance
If informed
she’s not a bear.
In devouring
she has great skill
At
napping an adept too,
Satan
would be waiting still
Idle
not she lives to chew.
In rest, oh let me lay,
That
all my years be passed,
That
I might repose each day
Some
respite at last.
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