The Feather Boa

Deep in the jungle where victims conceal

I slither for weeks in search of a meal

Through daunting terrain and quagmire smelly

In search of substance for my cavernous belly

Day after day I twist and turn

I swim the rivers and part the fern

In search of anything worthy of toil

The lightening bite and alluring coil

Suddenly, I encounter a challenging prize

A mahogany wardrobe in front of me lies

A taste yet untried by this desperate beast

But nevertheless, a probable feast

I writhe and smother in relentless squeeze

Splintering my meal with consumate ease

And then I confess to a sight so hellish

As I digest the object with glassy-eyed relish

The jungle stands still, the monkeys aghast

As I swallow the whole of this object so vast

The parrots exclaim, 'how can this be?'

'He's scoffed the lot, including the key.'

I couldn't slither and I couldn't bend

From stuffing myself from end to end

A gluttonous reptile defeated by greed

Stripped of dignity, status and speed

Days turned to weeks and still it remained

A wardrobe shaped bulge that never quite waned

The panels and handles and duck filled pillows

The brackets and jackets and sly peccadillos

When things finally began to settle

Out sneezed some feathers and pieces of metal

Slithers of timber with hinges attached

Slowly return from whence they were snatched

Distention ejected and status returned

I set off again for what I once yearned

A meal I can savour with evident glee

Without splinters or hinges or resident key