A Cherub Without Wings
A little cherub, perched on high,
twanged on her harp all day.
She felt a little lonely,
though "bored" I would not say.
How happily those children play!
she thought as she looked down,
and on the lovely visage
appeared the slightest frown.
Gabriel marked her sorrow
and asked her what was wrong,
and so she had to tell him
for what her heart did long.
She could become a baby
if she would but agree
to lose those fluffy wings of hers
and still a cherub be.
Let me cut this ditty short.
Her wish indeed came true.
So now we call her Bubeleh.
Her beauty may all see.
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