Your eyes a bulbous blue.
O cephalopod, O cephalopod,
What wouldn't I do for you?
I'll paint your suckers red.
I'll take you down upon the beach
And wear you on my head.
Not buried in the sand —
But made into an octo-stew,
Though by a loving hand.
| My Octopus | By Brenda Chapman | Illustration by Robin Chapman |
| Your tentacles are purple poems; Your eyes a bulbous blue. O cephalopod, O cephalopod, What wouldn't I do for you? |
I'll shine your beak,
I'll clean your vent, I'll paint your suckers red. I'll take you down upon the beach And wear you on my head. |
And when you die (as we all do), Not buried in the sand — But made into an octo-stew, Though by a loving hand. |
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