There was an elephant, oh so big,
t’was rather proud of his twirling trunk
he trumpeted triumphantly til the noise
threatened all, he said they stunk.
He flung it far from side to side
and lifted slippery trees and stuff
and sweetly smiled his toothy grin,
decidedly drunk on being so tough.
When bathing, the others fled in droves
and hastily hid behind hills and trees,
for when he sprayed, it covered miles
and soaked the landscape and the seas.
Then a mote of dust flew down, sliding
up his nostrils and silently stroked his skin –
til he sneezed, and sneezed into the breeze
and collapsed in a heap right on his knees.
The moral of the poem is that power is self destructive -even for a virus!