She smelled from far away the sweet warm porridge,
But first, to reach it, the matter of closed dooridge.
She was able
To break in the door, and reach the table
Where she swallowed each bowl
Then she discovered where
There was a chair
That was first too hard, then too soft, then just right. She sat and sat.
The chair was flat.
She was flat on her rear.
She thought about it, and wondered whether she should cry. But instead,
She decided to go to bed.
One was hard. One was soft. One was just right.
Home came the Bears.
They saw the porridge and chairs.
And there, at the head
Of a bed,
A young girl, hair blonde.
Zip, leap… gone.