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Galactic Manoeuvres
Galactic injections never did go awry,
Majestically enabling us to fly, locate,
With the option of a green skin colour,
We reject shades for a way to the gate.
Standing outside to welcome us come,
Our friends greet our flight thru the air;
Orange juice, coffee, preference ours,
We recline having been a bird to care.
Nypsioc is ours and we look after it,
Because our flying capacities make,
Ecologists of us as we see the planet,
Just as it is, our own place, our cake.
Copyright ©
Dominique Webb
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