Hippo (draft)

Along a river the boy spied a beast, looking rather grumpy,
Huge and brown, with enormous teeth – and very, very grubby.

‘What’s wrong?’ asked the boy. ‘Wrong?’ she cried. ‘However will I stay clean?’
This riverbank, the state of it! It’s the muddiest I’ve ever seen!’

‘I’m a Hippo, and mud’s our ‘thing’ – we’re always covered and smeared –
But I hate dirt, it’s horrid – and the others all call me Weird!’

‘I’ve lost my name’, the little boy said, ‘so I’m called nothing at all.
But I think that I can help you – have you seen that waterfall?’

‘It’s like nature’s shower, for getting clean it’s just the job!’
So the Hippo jumped right underneath, and gave herself a scrub.

‘Clean, I’m clean!’ she sang to herself, covered in soapy bubbles.
‘But oh! What about you? I’d love to help you with your troubles!’

‘Here’s an H, for Hippo – I found it hidden under all that muck.
You never know, it might help... I wish you the very best of luck!’