Grandma Claire

She had no teeth, old Grandma Claire

Each day she’d eat a gummy bear

She couldn’t chew, so she resolved

To suck on it ‘til it dissolved

But Grandma Claire had quite bad luck

She grew so weak she couldn’t suck

And so the gummy bears in fact

Remained inside her mouth intact

Each morning, one went in her mouth

But ‘cause her sucking skills went south

The gummy bears that kept her sated

Gradually accumulated

‘Til her cheeks puffed out a bit

And she slobbered rainbow spit

With swollen cheeks and neon drool

She looked like a horrendous ghoul

But no one had the heart to say:

“No gummy bear for you today.”

(Inserting gummies, you must know

Would set dear Grandma’s face aglow

Denying her this single joy

Would be like taking baby’s toy)

So she kept stuffing gummies in

With drool a-streaming down her chin

Until the day she choked and died

Poor Grandma! How we cried and cried

And then we spent a couple weeks

Removing gummies from her cheeks

Eight hundred gummies—have a look

She made the Guinness Record Book!

And with the buckets of her drool

We made a lovely swimming pool

So children come from miles around

To our small house in our small town

To swim in drool-of-gummy-bear
All thanks to sweet old Grandma Claire.