From Alaska to Zanzibar the poets are out
They’re searching and hunting and looking about
The hunt is on, the call is being shouted out loud
The poets well versed are searching all round
In cupboards and sheds and holes in the ground
They’ll keep searching until that ferret is found.
They scramble about like mouse hunting cats
Reciting some prose in case ferrets like that
They’ve heard many stories of ferrets abound
And even up legs of trousers are found
Those furry mammals with teeth oh so bright
That when they are bared they give quite a fright.
The poets are hunting high up and low down
And when they have found him they’ll call you around
And while they are waiting they’ll play for a while
With the ferret you’ve lost since the end of last year
And gave herald to a ferretless and lonely new dawn
Since the day TM celebrated that Christ was past born.
David Taylor
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/looking-for-trade-martin-s-ferret/
