The Platypus; strange little beast.
On worms and beetles she does feast.
In creek and river she will dive;
she needs fresh water to survive.
Her home – a tunnel, dry and warm
where she can weather any storm.
A duck-like bill to breath and eat
and like a duck she has webbed feet.
Like a bird she lays eggs – just one or two;
to hatch out Platypus – small and new.
They’ll feed on milk that’s from her teat;
A mothers milk is always neat.
Until they grow and leave her home
Then creeks and rivers they will roam.
Doin’ Stuff stuff