I lay upon a shingle beach
All the fish were out of reach
But in the corner of my eye
I spied a group of Octopi
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Funny, rhythmic, and flowing. I've never been attracted to an octopus myself. But except for the snobbery at the end, your poem makes them sound a bit more desirable
Again a fine example of fevered fantasy. The author betrays his deeply felt love of nature, and maybe even his despair at the isolation he experiences as a part his human condition. The inherent optimism is always displayed in a naive and childlike manner. Excellent work.