Ron, the elephant, sees life full of woes,
He has a trunk for a nose,
It lobs around as he ambles,
It marks him from the rest of the jungle.
He further fills his head with worry,
For he has to bear his load of ivory,
And if he wants to live a long life,
He must stay clear of the poachers’ eye.
He thinks he is huge and gawky
Unlike the acrobatic monkey,
The bloke can swing from tree to tree,
He has trouble getting down on his knees.
The jungle shudders with the lion’s roar,
Ron finds himself gentle to the core,
No creature darts off as he strolls near,
His trumpet fills no heart with fear.
From atop his perch on a guava tree,
A monkey stares at Ron, and makes a plea,
How I wish I had a trunk too,
I could pluck fruits without much ado.
The lion eyes Ron from a distant place,
And wishes he had the pachyderm’s grace;
If only I were as gentle as he,
The hare and the deer would also befriend me.
Ozzie, the owl, heard all of them,
The lion, the monkey, and the elephant;
The Lord, he said, has surely blessed you,
It’s a pity even with your gifts you still feel blue.
Then he pushed himself off the branch,
Admired his prodigious wingspan,
He let the wind lift his weightless body,
And enjoyed another flight in the sky.