Flies like a bird or rocket jet
Or sails upon the sea
In a pirate ship laden with chests
Full of gold and jewelry.
My imaginary me (the me you can't see)
Has ice cream for supper by royal decree,
'Though servants urge, and beg, and plead,
Her highness to eat more sensibly.
My imaginary me can be small as a flea,
Or taller than the tallest, of the tallest, of the tallest, tallest, trees.
Then she pulls up her roots and sloshes about
The marshy forest with glee.
But when she's a flea,
So small is she,
That no one can see
when she hops about
and
tickles behind
the neck,
the ear,
the arm,
the back,
or the
knee.
the neck,
the ear,
the arm,
the back,
or the
knee.
