PaulineMoss

My brother made an acorn out of papier mache, white It had the finest details, with the size exactly right My brother said it was that good, he'd plant it in compost Which took me by surprise, and I assumed his marbles lost I'd always thought my brother was the smartest in our town But at this daft suggestion he had let our family down The next few months passed by until the final night of March When brother proudly said he'd grown a papier mache Larch I told him, from an acorn you'd expect to grown an Oak That no one would believe him, and they'd think it was a joke Next morning on the table was a papier mache tree Stood in an old brown plant pot, there for all the town to see It would be an understatement to say that I was perplexed I hadn't the foresight to foretell what was coming next My brother laughed and told me I was such an April fool I made a hasty exit saying I was late for school While on my way I marvelled at my brother's forward planning But all the same, I figured