The tree

As the blazing, hot ball,

Shined high in the sky,

A glint of mischief in his eye

As he leapt to the house to forage

A shadow with a shimmer of an axe

Lifted it up high, turned around

And threw his battleaxe down

He saw it all

As misery engulfed him

As depression won him

The sugar glider flew away

rejected.