A possum is a seldom one to see
In fading light, snug in a garden tree.
Her habit is to keep remote and shy.
Removed, secluded, from the prying eye.
So why this charming visit by the spa,
When, as she knows, she should be stationed far
Off on a forest branch, where no-one calls,
Or, if they do, retire when darkness falls?
But in the garden, poolside, lights ablaze
Have picked her out where all have turned their gaze.
So now she shines forth in a human scene
And condescends to linger, like a queen,
Till barking undermines her regal poise
And, with disdain, she takes her leave of noise.
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