The bee poem
The stingers pokes,
Like needles sticking into your skin.
The tongue tumbles,
Out like the stream of an water full.
The antennas laying,
Like it is on a beach holiday.
The eyes shimmer,
Like a shiny and spotless gem.
The legs stiffen,
like week long twigs.
The wings coll-ups,
Like falling leaves hitting the hard ground.
By:Angelina Glinska-Fonseca.
H:26
No comments:
Post a Comment