In the past, if I felt ghastly,
And in need of a jolly good scream,
I’d find a spot that I liked a lot,
Which always possessed a stream.

If it was wide, I’d sit on the side,
Dangling my legs over the edge
If it was narrow and reasonably shallow,
I’d jump in and sorta dredge.

If out of sorts and I really thought
My behaviour’d be called into doubt,
I’d find a wood in the neighbourhood,
Where I’d kick the leaves about.

There’s something ’bout trees that is sure to please,
– The rustle of leaves brings a certain peace,
So I’d recommend that you try to spend,
Some time doing this, till the wobbles cease!

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