I’ve started dating pangolin
With plated armour on their skin;
We run and dine and dance and sing
And never fear for anything.
My pinecone-bodied pangolin
Is never sad or mau-de-lin.
He never talks about admin;
He always sports a cheeky grin.
He loves to play the mandolin
And always takes his medicine
When he plays, he plays to win –
Competitive are pangolins.
He never, ever skips the gym,
Takes criticism on the chin;
He has the thickest of thick skins
That easy going pangolin.
He’s neat and tidy as two pins;
He polishes his keratin.
And worries if I get too thin,
Which is really kind of him.
He always carries safety pins
And always tells you where he’s been;
My mother thinks the world of him –
He’ll show me up, that pangolin.
But then he went off travelling
And that’s the last I saw of him.
And so, I’ve started on the gin;
I really miss that pangolin.