When I Get old
Will I be a snake or a ginger cake
Or maybe a witch and I'll turn you into a ditch
Or a silly frog
Or maybe a piece of log?
Or maybe I'll be a traveller
But - don't worry! I will come soon
With a bog baboon
Or maybe a thief
Who has no front teeth.
Or a monkey boy
With a golden toy?
Or I will be a horse
With no gravity force!
So I will fly in space
With a yellow face.
But who will come with me
I might turn into a tree
I will stand there still
With an apple thrill.
Then it will be snowing
And I will be going.


By Sofia Smirnova