For Chilman

For Chilman

I can take you along,

for a song,

to the sky, where fairies fly;

but I can’t fetch the pie

from the shelf so high.

We can walk in clouds,

atop silvery shrouds,

cross milky way, far ‘n’ away;

but I can’t fetch the pie

from the shelf so high.

I can slay all demons,

and silence the cannons,

brighten nights with merry lights;

but I can’t fetch the pie

from the shelf so high.

I can paint the moon blue

or any other hue;

make a grand scene, turn gods green;

but I can’t fetch the pie

from the shelf so high.

Your doll like face,

with an impish grace,

gives out a sigh to ask me why

can’t I fetch the pie

from the shelf so high.

When you pull my hand

and want me to stand,

to reach for the pie,

beyond my nigh,

how can I reply, the shelf’s so high?