© E.H. Shephard
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.
Made by Ingegerd June 2004, flyttad 2012