‘Hallo, Eeyore,’ said Christopher Robin, as he opened the door and came out. ‘How are you?’
‘It’s snowing still,’ said Eeyore gloomily.
‘So it is.’
‘And freezing.’
‘Is it?’
‘Yes,’ said Eeyore. ‘However,’ he said, brightening up a little, ‘we haven’t had an earthquake lately.’
April is National Poetry Month, so when you see this, post a poem you like on your blog.
NOISE, BY POOH
Oh, the butterflies are flying, now the winter days 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 gummingOn 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 ringing, Can be heard. And the cuckoo isn't cooing, But he's cucking and he's ooing, And a Pooh is simply poohing Like a bird.
A.A. Milne
