The Smellephant

A smellephant lives down the lane.
He’s got home cooking on the brain.

He cannot cook. He has four feet,
better for marching down the street.

Besides, he doesn’t know a pan
from the lid of a garbage can.

When his belly starts to rumble,
door-to-door, he’ll sniff and stumble

after potatoes and juicy roast,
or coffee and some eggs on toast.

Hear his trumpet, let him in,
or a trampling might begin;

of gardens, and of outdoor toys.
Don’t hide your food, or make a noise.

Just place it gently out the door,
so the smellephant will not roar.

He’ll gobble it in seconds flat,
then be as docile as a cat.

 

 

Image Credits: Andrew E. Larsen

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