but while walking through
the botanical gardens in Florence
it was all my husband
could focus on
He told me as we huffed it up the hill
that they built a cemetery on top
for morons like us
Neither of us looked up
at the symmetry of trees
or the truest blue
of the Mediterranean
that winked at us
in clean clarity below
Ten years of marriage
equates to hiking up a hill in July
and sweating in the hope
of something special ahead
“Keep walking, less talking”
I told him
Every turn brought another hill
Even the air was tired of constant providing
We didn’t find squirrels
but there were plastic chairs
next to the cemetery
The squirrel council gathered
beneath the old oak tree,
debating this year’s acorn tax
with wild indignity.
Red Tail argued loudly
for equal stash for all,
while Gray Tail filibustered
by climbing up the trunk and stalling.
Chiptooth formed a committee
to count the winter stores,
but half the nuts went missing
before they reached the floor.
White Tail, the Treasurer (a clever one)
insisted on a vote~
but bribery with hazelnuts
kept everyone barking a troat.
Yet somehow, through the chaos,
a compromise was made:
each squirrel keeps their acorns
but must share one… someday.
And so the forest functions,
in its nut-based parliament~
a jittery, tail-flicking congress
forever in dissent.
Three squirrels in galoshes
went splashing down the lane~
one wearing red, one yellow, one purple,
all dancing in the rain.
They leapt across the puddles
with a whoosh and a watery plop,
till the storm itself grew jealous
and begged them all, Please stop!
But squirrels don’t take orders,
especially not from weather~
so they twirled in their bright galoshes
and splashed off together shouting,
You don’t bother us weather!
Scissor tooth squirrels did it again bit through truck wires
Yards mysterious show
small free range tree huggers climb
with nuts in their mouths
sneaky critters
climb pole to bird feeder
stealing sunflower seeds
They ARE Skittish!
Just Like Real SQUIRRELS!
It's A Survival
Instinct...
It Stinks!
See?
-Gray Squirrel
02-28-2026
dog stands at window
watching playful squirrels run
climbing trees real fast
scitter scatter I hear the squirrels before I see them
their tails are fluffy and prominent, they chase each other
run straight up a tree, the leaves sound crunchy
a deer bounds into a thicket, I see the white tail
my eyes delight in the oranges, reds and yellows of the leaves
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Outside the Pinecone Coffee Bar,
dappled sunlight sifts through
oak branches like powdered cinnamon.
Beneath bark-striped awnings,
two squirrels sit debating
virtues of hazelnut cream~
claws tapping porcelain.
One stirs her espresso
with a twig so precise,
the other debates nutmeg~
twice or just thrice?
One sips with pinky raised,
with dainty, pawful grace;
the other gulps hers,
prefers dark acorn roast.
They chitter-chatter
and lean towards one another,
tails twitching over stolen scones,
plotting the morning’s next heist:
a sugar packet,
and in which oak to nap in
when the caffeine fades.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The squirrels gathered 'neath November’s gold glow,
with tails curled proud sitting in a row.
They piled acorns high—no plate left bare,
a feast in the oaks, with none to spare.
The eldest stood, whiskers twitching sage,
(His napkin a leaf from a bygone age):
"To the humans," he chirped, "though flawed, they try~
their cornucopias tempt us… but we prefer pecan pie."
A chorus of chitters! A toast with dew,
as they cracked hickory nuts and passed the acorn stew.
No turkey for them—just stolen seeds,
and gratitude for the backyard greed.
For what is Thanksgiving, but harvest delights
and fences scaled on frostbit nights?
They dined, they danced, till the moon hung low…
then raided some trash cans. As squirrels often do.
squirrels stare at me
remembering cold seasons~
please fill the feeder
My favorite little furry friends.
So, cunning, curious and quick.
Amazing to me their agility.
They’ve been here for an eternity, forty million years.
Not only have they escaped extinction but thrive among us in the tens of billions.
They mostly go unnoticed, ignored, hiding in plain sight.
But if you care to look closer maybe you will see.
They are friendly, funny and familiar.
And they’re very smart.
They remember each individual face of us.
Especially when you offer them a tasty peanut.
Amazingly they take the morsel, from your hand,
Delicately, gently and sweet.
My favorite sight is when they beg
Standing on two furry funny feet.
Looking sideways in my sliding glass door.
Hoping endlessly for a yummy delicious treat.
SQUIRRELS' LIVES MATTER
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With tiny paws raised, scurry of squirrels took a stand,
"Dear gardener, how dare you! This is quite unplanned!
You’ve vacuumed up our nutty feast,
Our food supply substantially decreased.
Now we’re left with just crumbs in the strand!"
With their cheeks full of nuts, they declared,
"We demand that our acorns be spared!”
With a chant and a cheer,
They made it quite clear,
“Our hunger should not be impaired!"
They marched with their tiny fists bold,
In search of their acorns, their treasures of gold.
With signs made of leaves,
They voiced their grievances,
While the gardener laughed, "Oh, do be told!"
"Dear squirrels, your acorns are safe,
In the shed, they’ve found a new place!
So rally your scurry, your crew,
And I'll bring them straight to you,
Now your anger for me you must erase!"
Can you feel something is about to change,
is it in the air everywhere you turn?
Much cooler mornings and nights are coming,
less sunshine each day for us to enjoy.
Days getting shorter with less time to play,
nights are getting longer with more darkness.
Trees are turning into pretty colors,
colorful leaves will soon be falling down.
Squirrels working very hard hiding nuts,
wanting their pantry full for the winter.
Changes are needed for the new season,
autumn is near to see and to enjoy.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.