Here’s a poem:
The Wet Stuff
—
Sometimes it’s blue,
Sometimes it’s green.
But most of the time
No colour can be seen.
—
Sometimes it’s square,
Sometimes it’s round.
Sometimes there’s no
Shape to be found.
—
Sometimes it’s cold,
Sometimes it’s hot.
So be careful if it’s
Boiling in the pot.
—
Sometimes it’s soft,
Sometimes it’s hard.
But only in a cold
Drink in my yard.
—
It’s always wet
And never dry.
So what is this stuff
We feel when we cry?
————————————————————————————
© 2008 Matthew Simmons
1. Tell me what you think of the poem?
2. What is it about?
3. Can you find the rhyming pairs?
4. What does the poem make you think of?

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