Please, Please, Whatever You Do.

Please, please, whatever you do,
On piles of leaves do not poo.
For if you do a leaf might jump,
And tap you lightly on your rump.

And if a leaf should tap your rump,
Being distracted, you might jump,
Causing these leaves to stir,
Attaching themselves to your fur.

Causing in you quite a fright,
These things chasing you from out of sight,
You may make a horrible scene,
Trying to shake yourself clean.

So please, please whatever you do,
On a pile of leaves you must not poo.