His friends were nice, well almost,
They’d call him “Wingnut”, as he’d boast.
Yes, he was given to boasting that he had no fears,
But, he never, never mentioned his ears.
For they did protrude far and wide,
Adorning his head on either side.
His friends told him he should pursue,
A rectification involving very strong glue.
The Surgeon had suggested a cut and a bib.
But actually he was telling a fib.
The only solution was complete removal,
For which, the patient, would give no approval.

“Don’t you, now, go out in the wind!”
Said his mother, while he slavishly grinned.
“The wind will pick you up in flight,”
“With such aerofoils, left and right.”
Now this was not the most loving observation,
For someone’s Mummy to cause consternation,
By making a jest of her son’s affliction,
Small on laughter, but big on conviction.
“Mother dear, in you I do trust,”
“But why is it that you simply must?”
“Keep reminding me of my biggest of fears”,
“Yes, that, forever, I’ll be stuck with big ears!”

“Dumbo” was another snide epithet.
But even worse ones were to come, and yet,
Wingnut was resolved to weather the storm,
Recognizing his appearance to be far from the norm.
Wingnut liked to give account of the story,
Of how he obtained his ears, not gory.
“I thought the mention was about beers!”
“Two big ones, said I, unaware it was ears,”
“That were being so most generously offered,”
“There and then I received what was proffered!”
“So since then, the time of my birth,”
“My ears have represented a double value worth.”

A pirate looking for his Buccaneers,
Without them defeat, rather than victory cheers,
Eerily searching the Erie Canal,
For vessels to pillage, not so banal.