March of the Elephants

The elephant swings its nose like so,

Back and forth and to and fro.

It has no fingers, has no toes,

But goodness gracious, what a nose.

…

Not so tall to reach the sky,

But dwarfing all as they pass by.

Along they walk the jungle paths,

Will do so as long as this world lasts.

…

These mighty beasts, some call them gods,

Worship ground on which they've trod.

For after all, they don't forget,

Know every joy, know all regrets.

…

So stand in line as comes the march,

Bow down till these beasts depart.

For the elephants lord over all.

Mighty, strong, ancient and tall.