Under the shell
 

Under the shell.

cold, wet, wheezy,
with shell rot
A tiny little tortoise,
He didn't move a lot

He needed a home
so he came to us
A tiny little tortoise
who never made a fuss

He didn't have a name
He slept in a pot
A tiny little tortoise
safe by his basking spot

He slept away the hours
Hated all his showers
A tiny little tortoise
Wouldn't eat the flowers

He hasn't grown much
I hope he will be fine
A tiny little tortoise,
is a burst of sunshine

A warning to the wicked
A warning to the fool
who smuggles gods creatures
you don't care at all

They hang onto life
by a single thread
Tiny little tortoises
all could be dead

What do they feel
No one can tell
A tiny little Tortoise
Under his shell

Cruel to the Tortoise
for profit you go
selfish as they come
I hope you reap what you sow

To me this poem is powerful. CBs anger is tinged with sadness at the evil deeds that people will do to make money at the expense of helpless creatures who do not have a voice.

CB your poem is very moving. It is also clever. Makes you smile, makes you sad and makes you angry - all in a few verses. I have a big lump in my throat and a misty eye.

What is uplifting is someone like you that will do whatever they can to make a difference. Warms the soul.

THANK YOU

thanks Jan & Jonathan such kind words and you have the gauge of it. For years I have picked up the pieces of other peoples' total disregard for life. I hope it has made a little difference sometimes. I've got to believe they've lived 200 million years and hopefully 200 million more in relative peace, CB

Well said, sometimes putting our feelings into a poem is a better way of expressing what we want to say to the world. Inspiring.

Oh that is so good Clare. As already said, this poem expresses so much and you're just a superstar for rescuing and giving a chance of a good life to these precious shelled ones.
xxx