澳门网上真人注册

The Official Website of Robert Munsch

Poems & Stories

Helicopters

My daddy flies a copter.
He flies it here and there.
He hops around the USA
And flies it everywhere.
He flies it out in Texas.
He flies it up in Maine.
He flies it on my birthday
And that is a real pain.
CAUSE,
Since he’s flying anyway
And flying almost every day,
Why can’t he fly it my way
And be here on my birthday?
That’s what the day is for.
Instead he’s in a war!
澳门网上真人注册 What a bore!!!