Night Flight
I’ll tell a secret just to you,
a fantasy that’s really true.
My bed can fly through time and space.
It takes me to every happy place.
In darkness, I but close my eyes,
and soon we’re flying through the skies.
We’ve neared the sun and felt its heat;
I’ve walked the moon with dusty feet.
We sometimes race among the stars,
escape to Mercury and Mars.
I’ve floated high in Saturn’s rings,
where fairies go to earn their wings.
Though I’m a child, I have belief
my bed will never cause me grief.
It lets me stroll with friendly Pooh;
in Oz I’ve played with Toto too.
I once saw Dinah blow her horn,
rode bareback on a unicorn.
I wore a badge in old Cheyenne,
and pirate-fought with Peter Pan.
My bed at times will change for me
to silver sails upon the sea.
Or even dive beneath the waves
to visit sunken vessels’ graves.
King Neptune there has shown emotion,
Caring for his private ocean,
Teaching fish they shouldn’t bite
at every dangling sweet delight.
When morning comes, before I wake,
my bed must know the route to take,
and know the time, I so assume,
to settle back inside my room.
It really happens, true and right,
distinct and normal every night.
You know my bed’s a magic spell,
but you must promise not to tell.
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