Poems by James J Murray

As Boo took chase with focused haste, the squirrel ran up the tree. Once out of reach he began to preach, to Boo on bended knee -

"You awful mutt! You little scut! Why can't you let me be? And let me search from where I perch, without the need to flee"

Said Boo to the squirrel " You're a terrible feral! Who I just can't let be! You itch and twitch in wooded bliss and shake your tail at me -

Then shuffle and rustle as you start to hustle, and spring from tree to tree - How is it my fault? I seem to exalt, your innate need to flee"

In all the commotion the Boo had a notion to fleet for her afternoon treat. And early next morning as daylight was dawning, the squirrel was nowhere in sight -

He may have decided, to preach was misguided - to tarry would just be in vain. To linger and languish would just cause him anguish, and so he chose not to remain -

But Boo knew him better and thought him right clever, and felt he was not far away. She thought of his leaving as rather deceiving and he’d be returning some day -

Though sensing the moment, she beamed a great smile. Being free from that rodent - if just for while -

Clover took flight one winters night, to Aspen she was bound, to hit the slopes with powdered hopes and maybe - meet a hound!

On morning one she had great fun with Bailey from the coast, who spun her tales and wild regales that finished with a toast -

On morning two she meet Old Blue who told her to beware! For on the slopes there often lopes an "Insolent Young Hare"

"A glorified rabbit with a nasty habit of pooping on the snow, so when you go, please take it slow, or all could end in woe"

On morning three and full of glee the Boo began to ski, she swooshed and wooshed her little pooch all over Dipsys Lee -

While having fun with everyone, little Boo flipped upside down, she crossed her ski's and bent her knees, and landed on her crown -

All fuddled and muddled and needing a cuddle, Clover looked up in awe, for standing there without a care, that "Insolent Young Hare"

"What brought you up? You little pup! To where I strive to thrive, for it was me who bent your knee and sent you in a dive -

I've marked my hopes on these here slopes, hard work I do declare, yet skiers always moan at me and mutter in despair"

"O Mr. Hare, If I may dare? I'd like to be your friend, I hit these slopes with powdered hopes not meaning to offend -

"Well since your nice, take my advice and tell all those who'd dare, on these here slopes there often lopes this "Insolent Young Hare"

Little Clover gave a friendly smile and struggled to her knees, snow up her nose, between her toes, she blasted off a sneeze!

"O Hare my dear, I really fear your pooping is outrageous! You need a designated plot - a kind of super pooping spot!

A place designed as a retreat, away from skiers well worn beat - where private business has its seat"

"If I set aside this private place, and keep the slopes in snowy grace, will I make friends and ski with you, and drink a toast when the day is through?"

O Yes! For sure! If my names Clover! And many cheers did echo over - and to this day slopes stay pristine - Hare's secret stash is never seen.