The Diary of a Penguin
Every day I clean my sticky, oily feathers.
Most days I have a wrestling match with plastic
bags.
Sometimes I have to escape from the net prisons.
I should always be eating fresh fish,
Iand should be making it home
safely.
RAIN
When I hear the pitter patter
of rain on the roof
I feel frightened
It makes me snuggle deeper in my duvet
It is a dog walking on concrete
and a hammer gently pounding in nails
It is Santa’s reindeer dancing on a roof
pitter patter pitter patter
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