There’s something fluffy,
On the end of my bed.
Its small white feet,
Are freakishly weird.
It purrs and meows,
A very cute sound.
And when it hides,
It can’t be found.
What can it be?
No-one will say.
Then I found out,
The very next day.
It couldn’t,
It wouldn’t;
But yes it was true,
It was Rycher,
With eyes of the deepest green and blue.
On the end of my bed.
Its small white feet,
Are freakishly weird.
It purrs and meows,
A very cute sound.
And when it hides,
It can’t be found.
What can it be?
No-one will say.
Then I found out,
The very next day.
It couldn’t,
It wouldn’t;
But yes it was true,
It was Rycher,
With eyes of the deepest green and blue.
Nice one Bethany! You certainly have a flair for rhyming poems. Maybe you could challenge yourself now with a descriptive narrative? I really enjoyed reading about your room in a previous piece of writing and it would be great to see what other ideas you can come up with.:)
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