Oh! That I’d been born a wing-ed monkey,
Rather that, than this earth-bound human be.
Upwards I’ll soar, defying gravity,
Till all of the world is revealed to me!
And no nook or cranny shall a mystery be,
Stark truth replacing realms of fantasy!
And although my wits be not full complete,
In turn shall my travel always be fleet!
India, China, Russia and all the rest,
There my wings will bear me at mere behest.
Atlantic, Pacific and t’other three,
Shall I criss and cross, till I go dizzy!
For o’er land and sea shall I spread my wings,
Alighting where’er my day’s sojourn brings –
Me, without much wit, alas not able,
To full-know the wonders at my table.
Responding to impulse with little thought,
Flying hither-thither, like I’d been shot.
But still a winged monkey I’d rather be,
Appendages for my mentality,
For when under my wings, I’m tucked at night,
I shall rue no more mocking dreams of flight!