Some bits from my book...

OK, so these are from my book, I haven't finished the illustrations yet but try to imagine them with pictures.-----

I finally resolved it,
I figured how to fly,
But if I share my secret,
I'll have to share my sky.

I think my levitation,
would catch on fairly swift,
but all that flying traffic,
Would leave me slightly miffed.

Now soaring over hilltops,
With no one else to fly,
I'm getting kind of lonely,
And also rather high.
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Fifteen worthy Sailors,
Sailed off across the sea,
To find the land of monsters,
Where they were had for tea.
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He was a couch potato,
His feet had taken root,
The sofa had engulfed him,
For years he'd barely moved.

He sat there still for ages,
Engrossed in the T.V,
Twenty years had past him,
And he turned into a tree.

His house fell down around him,
Then it was made anew,
Now he watches through the window,
Because they get Pay-per-view.
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My curly-swirly rucksack,
The one I call my own,
Is sticky-stuck to my back,
I'm a snail it's my home.
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I used to ride race horses,
I stopped it for my health,
They thought I was a jockey,
but really I'm an elf.
I won a hundred races,
And never came in last,
By using elven magic,
To make my horse go fast.
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Sometimes I stop walking,
And suddenly I shout,
It's not because I'm mental,
It's to catch the pigeons out.
But now I've been committed,
Not for scaring all those birds,
It's because I did it naked,
I'm mad in other words.
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I wish I was a python,
I'd just coil about and hiss,
I might not be as clever,
But ignorance is bliss.
Now squeezing down my dinner,
I slither on the floor,
And I never ever worry,
About money anymore.
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High up in the heavens,
Words were being said,
The angels and the seraphim,
Going head to head,
Disputes were arising,
And God was getting bored,
Yet again He'd have to show them,
Why he was called the Lord,
The night lit up with angels,
Tumbling from the sky,
Their frail wings torn and broken,
In one almighty sigh.
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I have the zen of a lion ,
I swapped him mine
To stop him sighing,
And all of my worries
He handles well,
While I sleep in the sun
With a taste for gazelle.
And now he must ponder
The grand scheme of things,
While I think of nothing
With the contentment that that brings.
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