I sometimes wish that I could be

A bird and fly up in a tree,

And hop around up there all day,

Then spread my wings and fly away.

I then think I'd rather be

A fish, and live out in the sea,

And dive way down beneath the tide,

To find a cozy place to hide.

And other times I want to be

A little rabbit bold and free,

And with my bunny friends I'd play;

It must be fun to live that way.

But when night comes, and it's dark out;

When ghost and robbers roam about,

At home, in bed, I'd rather be,

And have my mama read to me.

September, 1990