Hi ho, touch and go,
Circling the willow,
Canopy for blanket,
Cloud up high for pillow,
Rest now, under bough,
‘Round about the alder,
Lickety-so, timber-ho,
Never do we falter.
For we march upon the duy-grass,
Drawing rings around the beech.
To ask for your forgiveness,
And, indeed, to beseech.
Flipaflo, ho-dee-doe,
Spiraling the spruce,
Though this is supposed to be Tom Bombdil
It sounds a bit like Dr. Seuss