“Obligation of the Octopus” by Dr June Perkins

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Obligation of the Octopus

 

Arms with minds of their own.

A body that can morph through

openings.

 

Three hearts beating

boom, boom, boom

to the call of the

ocean.

 

Like escapologists

obligated when opportunity

presents itself

to freedom

beyond the tank.

 

Blue blood

beating, beating, beating.

 

Octopus of song.

Octopus of story.

Octopus of science.

 

By June Perkins

Key West Octopus

 

https://ripplepoetry.wordpress.com/2018/10/23/obligation-of-the-octopus/

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Prompt #26 Baby Shark Dance Prompt

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Any one of you who has little children, grandchildren or works in a school may have heard this song?

What can you write about Sharks?

Please send poems to:

poemoftheday.jaxton@gmail.com

Cheers

Jeanie

And this weeks quote:

“Oliver the Octopus” by Kylie Kovark

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Oliver the Octopus is talented indeed,

In the ocean orchestra he’s all they ever need.

 

With one arm he conducts, with another arm he strums,

With another two he bangs a beat upon the ocean drums.

With his fifth he holds a flute and he blows a pretty tune,

The notes sound out so soft and sweet that all the mermaids swoon.

His sixth arm holds an oboe. His seventh arm, a cello.

He really is amazing, this aquatic, music fellow.

He wears a dashing suit and is always looking sharp.

And with his final arm he plays upon a golden harp.

 

From North and South, from East and West,

From upstream and down under,

Sea creatures swim from all around

For this eight-legged wonder!

 

 

“Oscar the Octopus” by Monty Edwards

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Oscar the Octopus

 

Oscar the octopus opened his eyes:

Oscar the octopus got a surprise.

Over the sea-bed there glided a shark:

It was blocking the sunlight and making things dark!

 

So off to his den, Oscar started to swim:

He was hoping the shark wasn’t hungry for him!

Of course, do not think of an Oscar unarmed,

But even his eight might not keep him unharmed!

 

Oh, one other weapon he had, to confuse:

Some ink in a squirter he’d open and use.

But reaching his rock in a crevice to hide,

With eight arms all aching, he crawled safe inside!

 

“Lyle the Lemon” by Lynelle Kendall

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Lyle the Lemon

 

Lyle the lemon turned eleven,

Time to celebrate!

He planned a party with his friends

His Mum said, “Just ask eight.”

 

Who would he ask? How would he choose?

The job was hard, for sure,

He thought he’d ask the apple twins

They’d make a solid core.

 

Gus Grapes – he was a bunch of fun

And Orange, always bright

Watermelon, kind and sweet

Three more left to invite.

 

Lyle stopped to think, he scratched his peel

Oh yes! His best friend Lime

They’d play some games and do the twist

And have a brilliant time.

 

Two left to join Lyle’s fruity crew

Two left to share his day.

Banana, she can do the splits

And shake things up. Hooray!

 

Mum asks, “How many have you got?”

Lyle counts and says, “just seven.”

“That’s find,” says Mum, “I’ll help you out,”

“You must ask cousin Kevin.”

 

“Oh yeah, thanks Mum. Well now I’m done.”

He wrote out ‘Kiwi Kevin,’

And that’s who came to celebrate

When Lyle turned eleven.