Last night, my sleep was sound and deep.
I dreamt I was wrangling Zees.
I swung a net and tried to get
the little ones buzzing like bees.
I fashioned traps, and thought perhaps
I’d use a zucchini as bait.
First one, then two, then quite a few.
Good Zees come to rangers who wait.
I had a horse – a Z of course –
Ol’ Zesty, my angular ride.
We roamed around and searched the ground
for hovels where Zetas could hide.
I swung my rope, with faith and hope
while twirling it over my head.
I let it fly, and by and by
I lassoed a loitering Zed.
My dream, at last, was fading fast.
I’d managed to catch quite a few,
but I preferred to free the herd
and let the Zees go at the Zoo.