Who’s at the door?
Asks the squirrel to the spider.
Well, I don’t know, honey,
Replies he, spinning cobwebs in tapered walls.

It’s the reindeer,
Says the horse on a stool.

Certainly the butler,
Tells the conspirator.

Perhaps the wind,
Goes the willow tree.

I think, it’s the busy bee,
Whispers the little girl on a pony.

“Okay. Am off to Malibu. See you!”

But wait,
Says the brave and mighty soldier.
Bring an umbrella, three spears, and



“Am sure, you’ll find these handy.”

Thank you, replies the squirrel.
But I’ve got everything I need.

Besides, I always
Travel Light.

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