Have you ever seen a plethora?
Do you even know what a plethora is?
Does your plethora eat grass or feast on the sky?
Does he bubble along to the Sauvignon fizz?
If you left alone your baby plethora
Would he know how to care or look after himself?
And when he gets boring, will you dust him clean
Or stuff him back onto his shelf?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem