Spiderman And The Battle Of The Bulge

My great uncle Ben 
is a prizewinning baker.

He says it's because 
he's a great flour maker.

But he doesn't take 
his creations too lightly.

He takes it real serious, 
often baking all nightly.

He shoots in each morning 
on his scooter mobility

"With great flour," he says, 
"comes great responsibility."

Jam donuts, yum yums,
danishes and such,
Caught in the act, he growls,
"Don't eat too much!"

"Don't eat this, don't eat that!" 
Drives me up the wall.
Had I not sticky fingers
From his cakes I might fall.

"But I'm fit as a fiddle 
I say with a grin
A fruit scone or two 
won't do me in."

"Fit as a cello's more like it," 
he grumbles and moans.
"On top form you ain't. 
Pushing pencils and phones.

Since starting your desk job
and your big promotion
you just don't have the puff
to deal with commotion.

"Your job's to catch bad guys,
To wait and then pounce.
But your web might snap
And then you might bounce!"

"I don't care if my muscles should bruise,
My bones should crack and my back should ache
Cos I'd rather die
than not eat this cake."

"You can't fit in your suit
You can't face the Green Goblin
With three double chins
and spare tyres wobblin'."

I'll show him,
I'll shift this weight
Just soon as I've scoffed
a cream donut or eight.

© Chris Young 2018 

Photo credit : https://www.flickr.com/photos/emiline220/4273700175