Hop, hop, hop, hopped the pebble down the hill.

Stop he couldn’t: had he tried he’d just be hopping, still!

“Good morning little rolling stone!” A blue tit called with cheer.

“And to you and yours my friend!” squealed pebble, loud and clear.

He pondered as he tumbled round, and shattered into sand,

“I’d rather graze my pebble knees than ask a helping hand!”