image to accompany a series of poems i am writing.
I am sitting on the soft green moss
And I bet you wanna know why?
Oh the day I‘ve had,
It’s brought a tear to my eye.
Today I rode on a tortoise shell,
I wanted a lift to the wishing well,
I go there every Sunday morning,
with a very shiny penny.
I thought today, it would make a change
since my wings were feeling kind of strange,
to catch a lift with Trevor.
On I hopped
And off we popped, down the bumpy lane.
We started off at a very slow pace
perfect, after all,
we weren’t in a woodland race.
I lazily yawned
glancing at the meadow beyond.
From under the mushrooms the fairies waved
the babies rolled and laughed and played,
what a glorious day.
The Butterflies fluttered by,
bees buzzed from flower to flower,
and the sun was high
in the pale blue sky,
it was very pleasant for mid July.
I was happy to sit on Trevor’s hard shell
thinking I’d have a nice ride, to the wishing well.
But poor old Trevor trod on a stone
it was bad enough to make him moan.
He picked up his leg and gave it a shake,
but now we know this was a mistake.
I toppled over to the right
I nearly fell off, but not quite.
The cane slipped from my butterfingers
clattering on his shell, like firecrackers.
I turned to grab it, but I missed
and it bounced off of my boney wrist
right on top of Trevor’s head!
And that was it.
Trevor got scared
and I wasn’t prepared.
Off we flew up the lane, at thirty miles an hour
I didn’t know he would pick up speed
once we rounded the corner!
We must have been doing forty-five
when we shot passed Mrs. B Hive.
I hadn’t realized he could go this quick
I decided it must be his party trick.
As the wind rushed by my face
I wondered how my hat had stayed in place.
By now my bum was getting sore
and my feet were dragging in the floor,
all of a sudden he jumped a twig
I don’t know why, it wasn’t big!
But that was enough to send me flying
my eyes popped open, and I considered crying.
I clung to the front of his lumpy shell
and then we passed the wishing well!
Up ahead the pond grew nearer
I could see the ripples, become clearer and clearer!
I closed my eyes as I don’t like water
I don’t wash very often, not as much as I oughta!
The next thing I knew is that Trevor had stopped
and straight over his head I had popped.
I found out later that he can’t swim
and so now I will have to teach him,
But for now, I’m sitting on the cool green moss,
and drying my poor soaking wings
thinking about the days comings and goings.
Next Sunday I will go to the wishing well
But certainly not on Trevor’s shell!