I'd like to sleep on a
high branch of a tree,
whispered to sleep by the
rustling leaves,
bouyed by the waving branches,
twittering birds,
listening to cricket song.
A moon to watch over me,
and when the day comes,
the first rays of dawn
would tickle my eyes open.
My bedmates, the birds
would sing a cheery song
and the wind would play
among the branches all
the day long.
Raindrops would tap dance
on my little tin roof
wiggling in formation down
my windowpane in their joy.

Lindsey Milton 1993

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