Whose scorpion is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite happy though.
Full of joy like a vivid rainbow,
I watch him laugh. I cry hello.
He gives his scorpion a shake,
And laughs until her belly aches.
The only other sound's the break,
Of distant waves and birds awake.
The scorpion is ideal, bright and deep,
But he has promises to keep,
After cake and lots of sleep.
Sweet dreams come to him cheap.
He rises from his gentle bed,
With thoughts of kittens in his head,
He eats his jam with lots of bread.
Ready for the day ahead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem