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Ben the Bear

I once caught a glare from Ben the bear
Who sat in his lair upon a chair
Ben looked fierce with angry glance
His face told me I had no chance
Ben then rose to eight full feet
Then tore through space to find his meat
But then poor Ben tripped on a mound
His airborne mass flew pound for pound
Above my head the bear then flew
Then down down down old Ben fell through
I dove with all my might to move
And all the while revealed a groove
I turned to find that in my luck
Old Ben's big frame had become stuck
To help old Ben I did not dare
So that was the end of Ben the bear.
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