Life’s Sweet Sin

In yon green woods, where hedgehogs roam,
Whaur thistles grow, and briars entwine,
A prickly chap, he called it home,
Wi’ fur sae coarse, yet heart sae fine.

His cravings strong for foreign fruit,
Ane taste he longed, sae sweet and rare,
A pineapple, exotic loot,
Nae found in woods, nor growing there.

Ae day, wi’ purpose strong and bold,
He set upon a journey grand,
Tae Ireland’s shores, o’ tales untold,
Whaur pineapples, they sprang frae land.

He roamed and toiled wi’ passion dire,
And grew a pineapple sae sweet,
A taste tae stoke his heart’s desire,
A dream now real, his quest complete.

Wi’ laden spines, he made his way,
Back tae the woods he called his hame,
His friend, the squirrel, he would repay,
And share the fruit that bore his name.

The pineapple, they sliced and shared,
A taste o’ joy, a bond o’ kin,
The hedgehog’s quest, ane story bared,
O’ friendship, love, and life’s sweet sin.







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