Wood

On went the mouse through the deep dark wood.

A snake saw the mouse, and the mouse looked good.

"Where are you going to, little brown mouse?

Come for a feast in my logpile house."

"It's terribly kind of you, Snake, but no –

I'm having a feast with a gruffalo."

"A gruffalo?  What's a gruffalo?"

"A gruffalo!  Why, didn't you know?

His eyes are orange, his tongue is black,

He has purple prickles all over his back."

"Where are you meeting him?"

"Here, by this lake,

And his favorite food is scrambled snake."

"Scrambled snake!  It's time I hid!"

"Goodbye, little mouse," and away Snake slid.

"Silly old Owl!  Doesn't he know,

There's no such thing as a gruffal...?

Oh!”

But who is this creature with terrible claws

And terrible teeth in his terrible jaws?

He has knobbly knees, and turned-out toes,

And a poisonous wart at the end of his nose.

His eyes are orange, his tongue is black,

He has purple prickles all over his back.

"Oh help!  Oh no!

It's a gruffalo!"