The Wimp-Gobblers

When I was just ten, and laid up with flu

My granny would tell me a story or two

About fairy queens and garden imps

And the fearful gobblers, who gobbled wimps

 

She told of little Timmy McLord

Afraid to jump off the diving board

From under the water came a gobbler claw

And that was last of him they ever saw

 

She told of cowardly Lacy Flyder

Who ran away crying at the sight of a spider

A gobbler spotted her for his lunch

And the last they heard was an awful crunch

 

She told of timid Imogene Cladow

Who bolted in fear at the sight of her shadow

A gobbler snuck up, just as quiet as a flea

And another shadow she’d never see

 

She told of paranoid Lester Bean

Who wouldn’t touch things that were not wiped clean

But a gobbler showed up without leaving a trace

And now Lester’s in a much dirtier place

 

She told of a third-grade boy named Mike

Who was much too nervous to ride his bike

Then a gobbler came like a bat out of hell

Poor Mike was gone, and his bike as well

 

Then granny would say, “Now listen, son.

Don’t be a wimp. Try new things and have fun.

Life requires a go-get-it attitude

‘Cause without it, you’ll end up as wimp-gobbler-food.”