Chipmunks
Back and forth, to and fro
Hither and yon then off they go
Up the tree then under the bush
Off scurrying through leaves in a big whoosh
Grabbing a nut picking at sticks
In a game of tag they’d be the first picks
Hurrying all day whether to work or eat
There is seldom a pause they have energy replete
Either tasks or play until the sun has sunk
The forests’ funniest of creatures, the little chipmunk
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