I think there’s an elephant in the room,
It’s not in the closet with mop and broom,
Or hunk’ring about the kitchen or loo,
But right in the open with me and you.
Nobody looks at its big floppy ears
Or blinks at the way it leers and it jeers,
The way that it laughs, throws peanuts around,
Stomping and fromping away at the ground.
A leathery touch means, “Oh my, a chair,”
A whiffle of trunk means, “Oh my, the air,”
It does as it pleases, the king of the crowd,
So blatantly present but not allowed.
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Reowr 
I hate when elephants come to visit! They take up so much room and break stuff!
I know. They should come with their own insurance. š
You can always tell when there’s an elephant in the room because of the footprints in the butter.
That’s one big butter dish.
Or a very small elephant.
I need another cup of coffee. Reading that took all the energy out of me. I know when the elephants are in the room they jump of the chair two dogs and go plop on the floor. Reading your poetry is so bright and cheerful. Makes me want to read more.
Reading your comments is bright and cheerful to me. I very much appreciate the time you take to comment and the gracious words you generously bestow.
I’ve been at parties with folk like that!x
Lol š