Smog the Grump

Image result for rain cloud

There once was a black rain cloud

Who hovered in the sky

His name was Smog the grump

And it was no wonder why

He didn’t like blue skies

And he didn’t like ice cream

He hated barbecues

And the picnics on the green

And whenever he hated

He’d pour forth angry rain

The people told him “Go away!

And don’t come back again!”

He was a lonely rain cloud

And miserably he moped

“Maybe I’ll just go away

Since with me none can cope”

A tiny little flower

On a field far below

Heard the moping rain cloud

And could not let him go

She mustered up her strength and said

As loudly as she could:

“No, little black rain cloud!

Your rain to us is good!

We need the precious water

That you alone provide

If you leave forever

We will all wither and die!”

But Smog the grump was grumpy

And sad and sour and cross

But the flower prattled on

As if it was his blooming boss

“You cannot leave us Smog

Your rain can make us grow

The other clouds don’t water us

Please, oh please don’t go!”

Rather though than sooth him

The flower’d made it worse

Now he was so angry

That Smog was set to burst

“You foolish little flower!

You’ve now brought forth my wrath!

I will rain upon you

Turn your land into a trough

Your picnics will be ruined!

Your barbecues snuffed out

I will not relent from rain

Even if you shout!”

The flower celebrated

As water Smog did dump

And every tree and plant for miles

Cheered for Smog the grump

© Ben Cotton




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