Pooh's Poetry
The more is snows
(Tiddely pom),
The more is goes
(Tiddely pom),
The more it goes
(Tiddely pom),
On snowing.
And nobody knows
(Tiddely pom),
How cold my toes
(Tiddely pom),
How cold my toes
(Tiddely pom),
Are growing.
What shall we do about
poor little Tigger?
If he never eats nothing he'll
never get bigger
He doesn't like honey and haycorns
and thistles
Because of the taste and because of
the bristles
And all the good things which an
animal likes
Have the wrong sort of swallow or
too many spikes.
But whatever his weight in pounds,
shillings, and ounces,
He always seems bigger
because of his bounces.
NOISE, BY POOH
Oh, the butterflies are flying,
Now the winter days are dying,
And the primroses are trying
To be seen
And the turtle-doves are cooling,
And the woods are up and doing,
For the violets are blue-ing
In the green.
Oh, the honey-bees are gumming
On their little wings, and humming
That summer, which is coming,
Will be fun.
And the cows are almost cooling,
And the turtle-doves are mooing,
Which is why a Pooh is poohing
In the sun.
For the spring is really springing;
You can see a skylark singing,
And the blue-bells, which are ringing,
Can be heard.
And the cuckoo isn't cooing,
But he's cucking and he's ooing,
And a Pooh is simply poohing
Like a bird.
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
Sends--
I mean all your friends
Sends--
I mean all your friend
Send--
(Very awkward this, it keeps
going wrong)
Well, anyhow, we send
Our love
END.
