Some dreadful poety.

I'm off at the festival of quilts today so i'm leaving you with a dreadful poem i wrote about a creature tiny told me all about:

The Boka Woca
The Boka Woca, its a curious beast,
on blackboard and green chalk it does feast,
and chocolate balls are its favourite treat,
or so i'm told, by someone who knows.

It walks with its knees bent and its arms thrust back,
It finds its way with a purple map,
around its island of this and that,
or so i'm told, by someone who knows.

Its green from its head to its toes,
it has no fur so it has to wear clothes,
a bobbly jumper is what it shows,
or so i'm told, by someone who knows.

When it moves it goes sideways,
and runs very fast when it plays,
which is all the time or so she says,
she told me, shes someone who knows.