The lagoon

The parachute of aqua rises and falls,
It crumples up and it flattens out,
The wooden path provides a hiding place for the wondrous creature’s below,
The crowd waits for the show to begin,
Like lions waiting for the right moment,
To catch its prey,
A speck of grey emerges from the water,
The crowd falls dead silent and the water trembles,
The trees sway and the leaves dance and gentle breeze whistles past,
As if it was a signal for the show to start,
The creatures come out from under the wooden path,
The sun flashes a bright smile and the clouds fill with excitement and slowly billow,
The birds make a cacophony of noise
A tail and fin are seen,
And finally,
Flippers.