A cobra once at Christmastime
(His name was Jim or Jimbo)
Lay sleeping, coiled, beside his wife
Who sat with coils akimbo.
Then he awoke and cried, ‘Alas!
I’m lost in mental limbo.
I wish I was a poet like
My old mate Arthur Rimbo.
Then I‘d have words to wish for you
A truly Happy Crimbo.’
His wife unforked her tongue and smiled
‘My slithery and slim beau!
You just have done, my darling one,
So don’t be such a dimbo!’
‘And New Year too,’ the cobra said,
And whizzed off up the chimbo.