© E.H. Shephard  by Pooh Oh, the butterflies are flying, Now the winterdays are dying, And the primroses are trying To be seen. And the turtle-doves are cooing, 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 the summer, which is coming, Will be fun. And the cows are almost cooing, 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 ringin, Can be heard. And the cuckoo isnt't cooing, But he's cucking and he's ooing, And a Pooh is simply poohing Like a bird. A.A.Milne |
Made by Ingegerd June 2004, flyttad 2012