Owain Glyn

I think I've lost poor Whumplethump

I had him yesterday,

I put him in the garden

And left him there to play.

But when I went to look for him

He's nowhere to be found,

It could be that he's hiding

So I'll have a look around.


I'll search the shed and flowerbed

And look beneath the hedge,

Investigate below the gate

Then check the window ledge.

I'll look around the apple tree

And under that old log,

If I still can't find him

I'll check inside the dog!


I don't think Jake could swallow him

A Whumplethump's too big,

But on the other hand, of course

That dog's a real pig!

I've known him eat a Whigglewoggle

Whole, with just one bite,

And watched him hunt for Whumplethumps

On cold and moonlit nights.


I do not think he'd catch one

They're very clever things,

They're short and fat with corkscrew legs

And little leather wings.

Their heads are flat, with purple eyes

Their hair, two shades of green,

Their ears can travel up and down

Which makes their hearing keen.


They feast on creepy crawlies

That they find upon the lawn,

They get up very early

To hunt for slugs at dawn.

But most of all they love cream cakes

And currant buns, as well,

The problem is that mixing them

Creates a dreadful smell.


Then you can sense them coming

Even though they're out of sight,

Coz the blue fog they've created

Can block out the strongest light.

So what I'll do is get some cakes

And place them on the lawn,

Then hide among the bushes

Waiting patiently till dawn.

_ _ _ _ _ _ To be continued

Owain Glyn