‘Generally hunts crustaceans at dusk’

The octopus is a solitary fellow.
He hunts alone, but he’s happy enough.
He has no bones,
No skeleton to speak of,
But he has a quick mind
For someone with no skull.
He can squeeze through the smallest gaps
Or hide in tiniest places.
And has four pairs of arms
To use as he wishes
He can wave to other fishes,
Or cook eight dishes.
He enjoys his own company
But, it has to be said,
He is happiest when entertaining
His best buds, on the sea bed.


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