A Turtle Talks Poem by James McLain

It is difficult walking on fast upon your heel,
in the know, why I brought the turtle back
i do not know, do you?
I looked all over for it, it has to be hungry,
all ways on the move, in it's shell, alone.
It is the one with the long neck, in a soft shell,
with sharp fingers, it uses one to handle food.
My foot on her sofa, it fell in between the 'cushion',
I pulled back my foot, with a bloody sore toe.
Some do think me from, Englishman, swank designer.