dinosaurs
Gabe Emberton
The KRONOSAURUS cruised the ocean’s depths in search of food.
He didn’t have the very best of manners – he was rude.
He never wore a bib or used utensils when he ate.
He chomped up things and worse, he liked to nibble on the plate.
He never thought to ask if he could hang around to dine.
Most beasts that he encountered, sadly, didn’t see the sign.
He didn’t ever ask if he could stop by for a bite.
He’d simply show up unannounced – this guy was not polite.
You see, the Kronosaurus head was almost ten feet long.
Don’t argue with this guy and just accept that you are wrong.
His total length, we know, was thirty feet from tail to snout.
Which means his head alone made up one third his length, no doubt.
This mouth of his was just the kind of weapon to display
that any other swimming beast would stay out of his way.
Unfortunate, it was, if he arrived while you were home.
You should have disappeared somewhere in deep blue sea and foam.
Now if the Kronosaurus tries to visit for a snack –
prepare yourself, make some excuse and say you’ll be right back.
Then swim real fast and head to some remote location, quick!
Then call him up, apologize and say you’d gotten sick.
He’ll ask, of course, if maybe he could visit you next week.
Stay strong, I say, for this is not the time to act so meek.
The only thing to say to keep you safe you’ll soon discover:
“That’s fine, Krono, but I’ll be gone. So, please, call on my brother.”
He didn’t have the very best of manners – he was rude.
He never wore a bib or used utensils when he ate.
He chomped up things and worse, he liked to nibble on the plate.
He never thought to ask if he could hang around to dine.
Most beasts that he encountered, sadly, didn’t see the sign.
He didn’t ever ask if he could stop by for a bite.
He’d simply show up unannounced – this guy was not polite.
You see, the Kronosaurus head was almost ten feet long.
Don’t argue with this guy and just accept that you are wrong.
His total length, we know, was thirty feet from tail to snout.
Which means his head alone made up one third his length, no doubt.
This mouth of his was just the kind of weapon to display
that any other swimming beast would stay out of his way.
Unfortunate, it was, if he arrived while you were home.
You should have disappeared somewhere in deep blue sea and foam.
Now if the Kronosaurus tries to visit for a snack –
prepare yourself, make some excuse and say you’ll be right back.
Then swim real fast and head to some remote location, quick!
Then call him up, apologize and say you’d gotten sick.
He’ll ask, of course, if maybe he could visit you next week.
Stay strong, I say, for this is not the time to act so meek.
The only thing to say to keep you safe you’ll soon discover:
“That’s fine, Krono, but I’ll be gone. So, please, call on my brother.”