Sam Neill loved to squeal.
He’d squeal in the morning.
He’d squeal in the evening.
He’d squeal when he was happy.
He’d squeal when he was sad.
He’d squeal when he was being good.
He’d squeal when he was being bad.
He didn’t quite know why he loved to squeal
But I suspect it’s because it rhymed with his surname, Neill.

© Carl Burkitt 2018