Wet and muggy With rare frogs and buggy Land that's both temperate and tropical When it comes to the world's climate, it's topical.

Pocked and marked, Torn and hewn, As the surface, Of the moon

I'm called the Houdini of the ocean, Slipping away is my daily devotion. With eight arms and a clever disguise, I vanish before you can realize.

I'm a flying cliche, and I'm sick of it. I don't always sit on a pirate's shoulder, asking for crackers and my name's not always Polly!

Plated in armour prominent in nature's domain Land, water and air And I still remain I glow in the dark You'll find me in a park Whether I have horn or jaw, it is profound My desert kin, you will find underground