Stubborn as a mule, yet not quite the same old rule. In fairy tales, I carry loads, braying my way down dusty roads. Shrek would agree... you can't stay even if you say please.

I stand in stacks against the chill, Once full of life upon a hill. Now stripped of bark and split in twain, I wait to dry through sun and rain, And feed the hearth a warm embrace When winter winds begin to race.

I perch on rooftops and coo through the day, then spread my white wings and flutter away.

Fluffy tail flicking, Quick as a wink, it hops free, Garden nibble thief.

I can have many arms or none, either way I'm no fun. A thousand needles is no joke, best watch out for my poke!