the christmas squirrel
	Squiggly the squirrel stayed up late he didn't want to hibernate he thought he'd play in Bluebell Wood instead of kipping when he should His brothers and his sisters slept as slowly down the tree he crept 'cross sparkling snow with moonlit glints he left a trail of small pawprints He bent his head against the gale which whipped and buffeted his tail he heard a mournful, eerie howl and a flappity-flap of a bat or an owl Then Squiggly raised his head to see that he was lost, calamity! he wished that he was snuggled up with a bedtime drink in an acorn cup He ran and ran, as squirrels may in that jerky, caught in a strobelight, way through looming, black and ancient trees to a grassy bank where he fell to his knees Meanwhile, safe inside his sett sat Bertie the Badger in his hairnet waiting by the fireplace in his dressing gown for Santa and his presents to come on down Bertie had just started to snore when there was a banging at the door outside was a weeny bundle of fluff all covered in leaves and twigs & stuff Bertie gave Squiggly a cup of tea (a special blend he'd bought from QVC) he tucked him up safe in his sofa bed and pinned up a stocking next to his head Squiggly the squirrel woke up to find presents! for him? how very kind! he'd never before heard of Santa, you see because you don't get a chimney on a tree @ Karen Birch 1998
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