Across the road he slithered
His mind was in a dither
Smug in the sun
Reluctant to run,
But wait for a truck to come hither?
He’s said to be slimy and cold
Slithery, slinky but not bold.
But up close you would say
He’s not really that way
His rep is not true but still told.
Cross the road he does slide
Not straight, side to side.
His tongue it is red
Slips through lips, it is said
So to hiss as across he does glide.
part of the Daily Post Poetry course.
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‹ Symmetry
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