AnElephantCant eat hot spices
He ain’t a silly-billy
He sure don’t like to burn his trunk
So he stays well away from Chile
He knows it ain’t Thanksgiving
‘Taint even Sunday tea
But sometimes nothing hits the spot
Like a daud* of roast Turkey
He likes a ton of vegetables
He takes a load of feedin’
He chomps tons of those wee turnip things
That come all the way from Sweden
AnElephantCant spell tortillas
They’re not even in his lexicon
It’s no surprise where this is going
He takes his hat off to a Mexican
He visits a patisserie
Asks is that a cake or a meringue**
The lady says no you’re quite right
It’s a gateau from Champagne
He needs plenty of roughage
Always has since he was ill
But he doesn’t just eat Monkey nuts
He likes the big boys from Brazil
When he was younger he’d munch anything
He scoffed a sausage had a pie
And when he worked up a mammoth thirst
He could drink Canada dry
He puts salt on his porridge
And he eats it steamin’ hot man
Sugar is for an English lassie
No’ AnElephant frae Scotland
Notes:
* daud – a lump, a large piece
** a meringue – in Scots, sounds like ‘could I possibly be mistaken’
Oh, and Champagne needs the French pronunciation for the rhyme to work.
As if that matters!
And thanks to a couple of new friends for their unintentional inspiration:
http://thenicethingaboutstrangers.com/
http://turkischland.wordpress.com/
Yep, they are to blame!
anelephantcant 
What an enjoyable epicurean philosophy. I found much pleasure in this post, but then I really like the taste of many things. 😉
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Besides enjoying laughs and smiles I am also getting educated. 🙂
I can’t wait to include ‘daud’ in a conversation and impress…….somebody or maybe nobody. 😦
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amazing poem! 🙂
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Quite a diet! As an English lassie I like syrup on my porridge! Sacrilege, I know! 🙂
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