Weta Poem
Tree weta,
brown body and giant legs,
climbing around the pohutukawa tree,
searching for food,
foraging for something to help him last through the night,
Something is lifting up his nose,
a pohutukawa leaf,
He starts munching on the delicious nutrition.
He finishes,
a stoat slowly approaches him,
he attacks,
the stoat wounds him,
he bites the stoat,
Stoat gives a high pitched squeal, it leaves.
The weta,
Slightly wounded,
Edges it way slowly home,
Then he rests,
For he knows, he will need it.
Hello Finn
ReplyDeleteIm Fraidoon from Panmure Bridge School in Auckland. I hear you are new to blogging. I think you are going to do great. I really like your poem. It is creative and cool. Before reading this poem I did not know what a Weta was because we don't have wetas in Afghanistan. Now thanks to your poem I know what it is. I can see your school is from Greymouth. Have you ever been to Lake Brunner? It looks like an awesome place. Maybe next time you can visit my blog?
From Fraidoon