You are grass,

waving in the strong,

 frantic wind, like a hotel

 in a tornado.

You are a river, 

calmly flowing through a muddy old field, with roses and tulips growing beside. 

You are a field, 

as frosted as ice, where the blades of the grass have frozen over night. 

You are a French Bulldog, playing like a toddler through 

the long green grass in the field. 

You are a muddy puddle, 

sat on the soft concrete flowing slowly and steadily across the road. 

You are the wind, 

pushing people along , as cold as an ice cream. 

You are a family pet, 

playing with your toy frog, as calmly as a soft flowing river. 

You are a ball, 

being chucked forward and backwards whilst being continually chewed into tiny bits.