When I was a little girl, I was one of the few
who didn’t like the stories of Winnie the Pooh.
I was given the book and the toy bear,
but I left them on a kitchen chair.
When I was read a story about Eeyore,
I found the content was really a bore.
I didn’t want to hear Pooh stories anymore
and pushed the storybook onto the floor.
I protested that he was too silly,
and that he didn’t have a ‘willy’.
His shirt was too short, his stomach too big,
and he wasn’t funny, nor was the pig.
He was called Pooh when he blew a fly from his nose.
You should push it away, which everyone knows.
With his arms up in the air more than a week,
I thought that made him something of a freak.
And pooh was a funny word – everyone knows
when you go in the pot and then hold your nose.
As for Tigger, Kanga, Piglet and Roo,
I didn’t care about what they would do.
But they did agree that Pooh had no brain
and the stories made that very plain.
My Mum said he had common sense.
I disagreed and said he was dense.
Also, he was always looking for food
and that behavior made him very rude.
He ate all the honey from Eeyore’s pot,
so an empty one was all he got.
He said silly phrases and made a silly hum
and didn’t have a properly shaped bum.
Surprised I had shown so much disdain,
my Mum agreed Eeyore did also complain.