This is my poem.
I have a pet turtle,
who a year ago was tiny.
I named her Myrtle,
and her shell was so shiny.
She loves to bask on her dock,
warming her body with a heat lamp.
She sits as still as a rock,
until she is warm and no longer damp.
Larger, Myrtle began to grow.
She would startle and dart.
My turtle is not slow.
She is very, very smart.
I've had her a year,
she's as big as a block.
She looks at me as gentle as a dear,
I look at her and wish she still fit on her dock.
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