The Vologlopamander

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So I found a bunch more recent poems, most from last year and the latter part of 2014. This is one my friend and I wrote for school last year. 

The vologlopamander
Was the son of salamander
And a feather-keeping gander.
He hatched from an egg
(Which he broke with his leg)
And found himself in Winnipeg.
Before we name his fate,
A few answers we will state,
Concerning his looks and what he ate.
As to the first, rather gray
With orange stripes every which way,
Because he was born on a weekday.
He ate lemon meringue pies
That were dotted with dragonflies
Despite what you say, we tell no lies.
The vologlopamander would still be here if
He had not been carried off by a half-blind hippogriff,
Who mistook him for his parrot friend, then dropped him off a cliff.

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