A wise owl once stopped me
He perched upon my shoulder
He said, “I know whats in your pocket boy
I spied it from a distance”
He wasn't wrong, he knew the facts
He had his beady eyes on me
Although I turned and shrugged to him
And pleaded innocently
If he even as much as nibbled this bread
That sat inside my jeans
His feathers would turn to wool
And grow poles out the ends of his wings
“This here's my secret supply“, I said
In case of emergencies
And by that point I realised
Now was a better time than any
To shove that bread right down my throat
And make a quick getaway
So I did just that, and my legs turned to poles
A thousand feet in the sky
I had a beard made out of clouds
And I never wanted to go back
Because I finally got some peace and quiet
And a place where I could relax
And think about all the groovy things
That I wanted to do
Like skip, and write, and draw
And eat, just to name a few
So with my head up there in the clouds
I dozed off for just a little while
And dreamt about all the awesome people
And things that make me smile