I sat belonely down a tree,
humbled fat and small.
A little lady sing to me
I couldn't see at all.
I'm looking up and at the sky,
to find such wondrous voice.
Puzzly puzzle, wonder why,
I hear but have no voice.
"Speak up, come forth, you ravel me",
I potty menthol shout.
"I know you hiddy by this tree".
But still she won't come out.
Such softly singing lulled me sleep,
an hour or two or so
I wakeny slow and took a peep
and still no lady show.
Then suddy on a little twig
I thought I see sight,
A tiny little tiny pig,
that sing with all it's might.
"I thought you were a lady".
I giggle,-well I may,
To my surprise the lady,
got up-and flew away.
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