PO-AT-TREE
Dressed in his
Sunday suit
Po the toad,
Went trotting
along the road
Singing a song so
sweet.
There was Miss Bee
Hanging on an onion
tree
Heard the song, got it all wrong
“Ah you
Devil, you are so Evil
Aren’t you singing
for me?
Giddy gone his
head, His greens went red,
‘Yes, madam’ said
Po the toad.
Your beauty as
bee Is beyond compare,
But Alas such despair.
I was on the road
to glory,
Happy as I am, But not singing for thee!
She was hurt, The
toad is such a fart,
But give up she
won’t!
“Ah you liar, I know your kind.
With my beauty you gone
blind
Yet you bleed at
heart and yearn for me.
Come and hop on
to my wagon, For you the ride is free”!
So Po the Toad
Left the road,
To be with Bee, sitting on the onion tree.
Together to sail, For the fun
In the Land of Setting Sun!
Said Miss Bee,
atop the onion tree
“Now Mr. Hot Air ,
You are in my lair.
Will you marry Me”?
His warts got
shaken, knew he was taken,
He leaped off the
tree, breaking himself free.
“Uh my lady, not
you, I can’t marry thee.
I am Po the Toad,
king of the Road,
And you are just
a stinging Bee”!
