The Book On The Hook| Poem by Shifa,9,Lucknow

I am a book

Clinging on a long hook

I can talk

I can say Quack, Quack

Happily, I fly over a shack

Now, I am starting to think

That work done in a wink

Was great and fast

When humans disappeared at last.

I did, I combed furry whiskers of the blue ant

And styled the long, pink hair of an elephant

I scrubbed the dirt off the feet

Of a grumpy lump of concrete

While no one fed the old tiny whale

Her favorite piece of yummy little kail.

The squeamish whining of the snail

Attracted a noisy yet

Beamish chorus of dinosaur-whales

Those frowning faces of whales

Couldn’t stop drooling on the shale.

A foosh-foot named Brango

Missed his beloved yellow flamingo

The yellow one chorped-chirped

Until sad Brango burped.

The burp was loved by Mr. Moon

The parrot, the talking riddle, and the raccoon

Now, the foosh-footed one fled

In the forest covered with green bread.

This is lovely, said the ‘Quack Quack’ book

Now, resting under the sun with a coloured look.