Sitting on the ground
As neat as pie
Is a perfect egg
The colour of sky
And as this is a story you can pick it up
And wonder gratefully at your fabulous luck
But who do you think is sleeping inside
The egg is warm and speckled besides
So you wander gently down the way
Looking for the mother of the egg today
And who's that you see with your steely eye?
I think it's a Swan we keenly spy
Turn left the next chapter will reveal at the musical instruments.