Upon a throne of maple red,
the chipmunk king raised his head
looked upon the the leaves, all dead
the plump acorns upon which he fed
and with chirped voice all he said
was,”chipmunk kin, feel no dread!
though another winter lays ahead
we sit together in good stead.”

Below the throne in tones of gold
a little chipmunk, a bit too cold,
said, “Yer majesteee, i’m not so old
i’m scared the snow i’ll first behold
will be much worse than I’ve been told
as all the land becomes enfold
ed in heavy white I’ll be holed
up for many months untold
my tiny fate uncontrolled!”

The chipmunk kind, with tender eyes,
bright and honest, deep and wise
no tolerance for any lies
said, “My little friend, I can’t disguise
the danger of the coming skies,
but rest easy, there comes a prize –
green leaves and spring breeze sighs,
as bitter winter says her goodbyes.”