You are a ball,
bouncing like a person
jumping up and down.

You are a smell of a rose,
in a farmer’s garden.

Your are a Labrador,
sleeping peacefully
in a pile of soft, comfy cushions.

You are a starfish,
on an aquarium window
waiting to be seen.

You are Goldilocks,
deciding which stuffed, coloured
chair to sit on.

You are the sound,
of a loud whisper
talking to them-self.

You are spring,
opening its eyes
to trees and flowers growing.

You are a slice of gooey cake,
sat on a plate
waiting to be served.

You are a clock,
in the shape of a letter O.

You are a piece of juicy bright fruit,
waiting to be cut open.

You are a book,
resting on a bookshelf
of sleeping books.

You are a strand of hair,
being stood on by a zombie.

You are a piece of chewy, sticky bubble gum,
being chewed
in someone’s gross mouth.

You are a long, slim pencil,
being used by a monster
writing secrets.