I shall tell you the tale of a man M’Row Taptoo
Who had a lovely library, a kind kitchen too
So Mr Taptoo had nowhere to go, to sweat for his money
For his papa was his Santa and life was sweeter than honey

Despite that, it lacked excitement, it lacked spice
So, with some intelligent enticement, he did something nice
And his present state is…
Lip smacking, mind wracking
Tongue mumbling, brain numbing
Lots of nail biting and snack nibbling
His jaws and paws always at work
As the plot thickens
So does his waist

While his backpack bulges with books
His pocket bulges with packets
Of chips – creamy, cheesy and chicken
When he reads Grisham, Coelho and Dickens.
As he savours every word
Devours every morsel like a bird
Cherishes every para thick
Relishes every pack to the lick
He worms his way through the pages
His stomach too, he engages
Till he’s alone, with a crumpled up book, a flattened packet

Now his library is empty and so is his kitchen
His jaws and paws are stricken, they’re restless and twitchin’
He has no other issues, too many tissues and bursting bank coffers
No interest in vacation, vocation, motion picture offers

Life’s dull, in a lull, no sweet, no spice, quite bitter than better
Till a smile pastes on his podgy face when he gets a letter
To the lip smacking library he took his feet
Where his Santa pop had a membership, no limit to read and eat

A little while ago, there, he told me his tale
While we read some shortie limerick and had some lovely lime ale
He sits there now with his thrilla, taco and tequilla
And you should join him too, if you want a time, thought and tummy filla!

This is the tiny tale of M’Row Taptoo
And that of every Lounge Potato Book worm like me and you!