Don’t Poke The Elephant In Its Bum Madam

Don’t Poke The Elephant in Its Bum Madam

Don’t poke the elephant in its bum, madam,

The keeper said with a cautious sigh.

It is a creature of grace and patience,

Though not renowned for letting insults slide.

The lady smiled with curious courage,

A parasol tucked under her arm.

She whispered, “Surely one tiny prod

Cannot possibly cause much harm.”

The elephant flicked one thoughtful ear,

As wisdom hung thick in the air.

There are moments in life for dignity,

And moments to simply beware.

Don’t poke the elephant in its bum, madam,

The warning came once more, polite.

For elephants rarely write complaints,

They demonstrate their views with might.

Oops, too late, the deed was done,

A thunderous trumpet shook the ground.

Tea cups flew and hats went spinning,

As chaos bloomed all around.

Silence fell. A steaming heap.

The crowd stepped back in fright.

The keeper sighed and muttered,

“Can someone remove all this shite.”

The smell was so stinky and potent

the shite was so loose and dark

the keeper shouted out lots of abuse

while everywhere the shit hit the crowds