A cautionary tale
There was a young boy, who thought his sleeve
Made a convenient handkerchief.
So through October and into March,
Both his arms were well starched.
His suffering Ma warned him oft,
To find a tissue and catch his coughs,
But, alas, he did persist,
Her sage advice, he did resist.
“You’re always sniffing and bubbling,
And I find this rather troubling.
If you don’t mend your ways,
You’ll come to no good!” his Ma would say.
But the boy listened not,
He continued to bathe both arms in his snot.
Off he’d skip, down the hall,
Heedless of his mother’s warning call.
Until one day our little pest,
Wandered too close to a dragon’s nest.
Dragons, of course, love gold, silver and gems,
And watch for their glint, from within their dens.
The sun was shining, sparkling down,
Beating the sleeves of the boy’s gown.
Alas, the glinting arms caught the dragon’s eye,
And so she took to the sky.
In a flash she swooped on the sticky mite,
And ate him up in one bite.
“A tasty morsel, I can hardly fault,”
Remarked the dragon, “but… could do with less salt.”
And so end all children who won’t obey their Mum,
Learn caution from this unlucky son.
And find a tissue, blow your nose,
But above all, never use your clothes!
