WISHING

'The Flying Cot'  by  Trish 

If I could be born again,

I'd ask for a special friend.

Who'd hug and kiss me  each night,

One who'd  never give me a fright.

I know there'd be a long  wait,

To have such a perfect state,

But I wouldn't mind one little bit,

I'd pretend I was in a very slow lift.

And while I waited, to be born again,

and kept thinking of my special friend,
I'd be safely tucked up, in my flying bed,
With a big pilot helmet on my big baby head.

Tushie




ESPECIALLY DESIGNED
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Here's another, grown up, special sort of suit
For when I need to give, the other one the boot.
It's  lined with wool, that's kind ,in all sorts of weather,
And the trimmings are made of genuine leather.
There's a frosted glass to cover my face,
It'll keep all the air in, as I float around space.

I don't know when I'll need it, or how old I'll be,
Before my present flying cot, is too small for me.
But 'better to be sure than sorry', I've heard grown ups say,
'It never hurts to be prepared  for the next rainy day'.

So have a good look at my space suit, at my cot, and me as well,
Because when I do make the change, it's clear,  you won't be able to tell,
If it's me, or a person from another place, or maybe even  from mars!
If you look closely, where my ribs would be, you'll see some iron bars,

'Spacing Out'  by  Trish

Protection is  my mission, and when that day should arrive,

In my new suit with the frosted glass head , I'll take to the sky.

Of course ,you'll think all this silly nonsense, from a silly little kid

But what if one day, you hear a grown up say,'can you believe what that kid did!'

Tushie