the crocodile
					jess
	p o e m s
			The zebra trek across the plains They stop to take a drink. The lake is calm and very still, Just like a smooth ice rink. But while they drink and quench their thirst A shape moves through the lake. It raises its head to see its prey, And decides which one to take. It swims towards its chosen one The one that it wants dead. It grabs the neck of that poor beast, The water turns bright red. The zebra turns limp in the jaws of the beast Its head falls onto its chest. Within minutes its body is stripped of flesh, The crocodile eats and then takes a rest.