| Contents | Games | Music | New GO-Gang | Message Board | Home |
 Pooh's Page What’s packed in that tree is precious to me, As precious as gold to a thief: Your honey, so pure....you think it’s secure. Prepare to revise that belief. I may not be strong and I’ve not lived too long. You think I’m a silly old bear. But I live on my brains and I’ve taken great pains To track your scouts back to your lair. Alone in the toy box, I longed for a snack To hold me ’til Christopher Robin came back. My strength and the weight of my stuffing is sapped By my long hibernation when he takes a nap!  The boy heard my pleas and dreamed up the bees, The makers of honey so fine. But I think it’s unfair that I’m only a bear, Unable to reach what is mine. I started to climb, but found out in time The bees would not let me inside. The treacherous things possess tiny stings To puncture my soft furry hide. A coward I’m not. I’ve cooked up a plot, A plan that’s both clever and brave. The hunger inside will not be denied As I take the honey I crave.  I’ve borrowed balloons and now upward I soar, And you will not hoard it as you have before. With stinger and wings I’ve disguised my bear form, And the wind is now blowing me straight at your swarm. Instrumental section. Buzzing gets angrier. What lives in that tree feels bitter toward me, As bitter as honey is sweet. I flee through the trees, pursued by the bees. My plan has gone down in defeat!!    Winnie the Pooh:Guide to "Pooh" Pooh Stories Lots of "Pooh" Links |
Next Story
by firefly
Canadian ProductRumbly Tumbly