Snail
Though he lived a great life
On a posh pile of bricks
There once was a snail
In a bit of a fix
The problem he bore
Made him shudder and twitch
As it’s hard without hands
To scratch your foot’s itch
With one foot not two
The itch grew and grew
There seemed no way to relieve it
He had searched high and wide
Many ways he had tried
He was beat
But just wouldn’t believe it
He had had but one goal
To un-itch his sole
To be free from his life’s irritation
When he’d searched his last hill
Though strong was his will
He retired to his shell in frustration
As he curled up inside
He longed to just glide
But the itch had become quite a pain
Then breathing in fast
With a squeeze and a blast screamed out
I am going insane!
Just then at the yell
As he cried in his shell
Strong winds blew him off that hill top
He bounced and he rolled
Down and down so I’m told
His fall, so he thought, would not stop
For a minute just then
Though it felt more like ten
The snail was weightless in air
He plucked up some courage
And made way through his dunnage
To see what and why, how and where?
He was high above ground
And a whistling sound
Whipped around as he soared like an eagle
How on earth could he fly?
Looking up revealed why
Holding him was a hungry eyed seagull
Up and up went the bird
Though it’s strange, not unheard
That the air put the snail’s foot at ease
He’d be dinner for sure
But the wind held his cure
So he unfurled his foot in the breeze
He kept his eyes closed
Captive, exposed
And expected himself to be eaten
The next moment right there
With his foot washed in air
The itch had been finally beaten
So he smiled and stretched out
Let his foot flap about
Then his tail licked against the bird’s toe
Ewww screeched the bird
Though it’s strange, not unheard
The squeamish seagull let him go
He was falling again
And he wondered just when
It would end but he’d lost all his fear
For his problem was gone
And it couldn’t take long
To pass through the earth’s atmosphere
When he came back to earth
He’d discovered life’s worth
For he wasn’t one hundred percent
See, the snail’s shell had shattered
Yet none of this mattered
As he sought out a nice airy tent
He lives happier now
In a field with a cow
His posh pile and shell long forgotten
When an itch finds his sole he just climbs a tent pole
And cools himself down top to bottom