The whimsical ways of a wondering weasel
Have perplexed all those who know him
His indifference abounds
As he runs all around
In the forest
Where parents abhor him
But the lace-ladened lady
Who visits these woods
Believes that his antics are awesome
From that which is pure
A lighthearted cure
For the rest who refuse to blossom
So, if in the woods of magical beings
Where clear eyes can see what’s before them
Praise Him high above
For sharing His love
Through a creature
Who we know adores Him