The Tiggore

In the Hundred Acre Wood
Nothing feels as it should
Kanga's not been seen for days
And the Sun has hid its rays
And everyone now hides in fear
Lest the Tiggore should appear

His head is bright and stripey
But his bum is grey and fat
His greeting brash and flighty
But his spring is rather flat
Sat in a gloomy puddle
He's sat there for a while
The Tiggore is a muddle
Soggy bum and manic smile

Christopher Robin got his gun
And consulted with Pooh Bear
They went and found a heffalump
They drove him right through there
Through the gloomy boggy dump
Where the Tiggore sat and moped
And suddenly they heard a bump
As they both had hoped

In the Hundred Acre Wood
Everyone feels as they should
Tigger bounces as before
And everybody hugs Eyore
And nobody now hides in fear
Lest the Tiggore should appear

If there's a Tiggore in your wood
Take my advice, you really should
Do not fear the stripey grump
Just send in a heffalump