Wee-woo, we-woo!
The police car zoomed,
its sirens sang,
its red lights boomed.
It zipped past ducks,
looped the slide,
spun a donut full of pride.
It barked at bikes,
wagged at wheels,
screeched through lunchtime snack-time deals.
But just before a high-five clap
a tricycle stopped it with a snap.
“Excuse me, sir,” the trike declared,
white streamers flying, helmet flared.
“You’ve looped too low,
you’ve zipped too fast
you made the squirrels drop their snacks!”
The car went blink. “But I’m the law!”
The trike just smiled, “I saw it all.”
“This is my turf three wheels, one lane.
Slow it down, or face the chain.”
The car gave in, tipped its hood,
parked itself as best it could.
Now every day, squirrels cheer loud.
Every once-in-awhile the trike is in charge.