The Turtle

I feel compelled / for just a spell
to discuss the turtle’s dome;
His tidy cell / we parallel
in each and every biome.

I can’t oversell / the need for personnel
to scratch the itchy-foot syndrome;
to sell the material / to travel as well,
it’s built into our genome.

The turtle’s own cells / wherein he dwells
and I think I may be prone
to see the bluebells / and enjoy the smell,
to see life in polychrome.

Everything’s swell / he needs no hotel,
wherever he may roam;
Safe inside his shell / I hereby you tell,
everywhere at home.

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