Charles Cornelius Trumpington Pout
should never have eaten that leftover sprout.
It puffed up his belly with gases most foul,
churning and gurgling deep in his bowel.
Banished to bed with a rumbling tum,
he was kept awake by his grumbling bum.
His bulging gut could not be restrained.
The vapours within would not be contained.
You won't be seeing him anytime soon,
his bottom blasted him straight to the moon.
So here ends the tale of young Master Pout
who should never have eaten that leftover sprout.
Poem ©2013 Meagan Munroe
Illustration ©2013 Mike Brownlow