King Guzzle from Upper-Mole-Rainer
Always wore edible clothes
Each garment sensation, of flavour
From bilberry sandles
To rhubarb tang bows
On his wardrobe
Each day laid a menu
Which he studiously vetted
As hunger arose
Servant's dithered in anticipation
Awaiting, selection
Of freshly cooked clothes
The huntsmen and army's assembled
To protect him from bird, man, and beast
As he wafted aroma of opulent fare
A king, literally fit for a feast
Astride stallion, he waved at the masses
Spooning, his tunic of venison pie
Deer they did storm eagles swooping forlorn
Cried the Queen
"He must stop or he surely, will die!"
Out to the wilds of the forest
Wild bore insulted by porky pong feet
Soldiers acted so fast, till the panic was past
Through stream, all beat a hasty retreat
Looking back the commander of armies
Was searching to pick out the king
In the panic ensued, his direction was skewed
In the distance
He spotted an awfully odd thing
A mud-plastered figure was waving
No clothes did this being have on
Twas the king without dish, his clothes eaten by fish
Only a crown and a spoon
Did he don
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