A Wishing of Wings at the Hullababall


In the bells where they ring in the wind as they swing

there’s a twisted and rickity thicket,

fulla wee caterpillars all wishing for wings

to the lullaby songs of a cricket.

Yes, life was grand. Yes, Life was swell.
And as days do they went quite well.

Then, one lazy evening…
out past the drunk hosers…

out past rosie snoozing, and dear daisy dozing,and

and towers of flowers all yawning and closing with showers of petals from giggles and posing…


A spider queen came grinning in the darkness of the night,

weaving sticks into a palace as the meadows filled with fright.

Inside she kept one hundred flies

that buzzed around her hundred eyes,

and wispy woven windows blocked the light.



A pink moth one day

Was at play in the flowers,

Dancing between them for hours.


She spun in the sun and she flit with a flair.

She looped and she swooped as she floated on air.


She glided the glade like a small pink parade,

While the cricket sat fiddling a sweet serenade.


& a sinister wind set the bells to a-tink-ling,

The moth was sent toe-ward and tumbling.

She valiantly veered

and with tiny wings reared,

but the winds only sneered at her stumblings.

With malice they swept her right up to the palace,

and into the cup where the queen liked to sup.



Now, Cricket was ticked now, he’d watched the queen’s trick

So he hopped to the door with a whispering roar:


Let me in!  Let me in! I am freeing the moth!

I won’t let her cook in your spider’s broth!

      – He called out to the queen.


Yes, he hopped to her throne,

     Over piles of bone,

While the flies the queen ties filled the room with a drone.


And he begged, Let her go! Please set the moth free!

Don’t you think you’d be happier (gulp)… capturing… me?


And as the queen listened her hundred eyes glistened.


The cricket seemed like quite the treat,

With legs that teemed with bites of meat.

Oh, what a dreamy sight to eat!


So she let the moth go, who was bony and thinner,

And tied up the cricket to have for her dinner.



Darkness curled upon the world,

     The stars were swirling soon.

  All wash hushed with evening’s blush

     Beneath the pearly moon.


The cricket wished to fly away,

Then lifted up his wings to play . . .


He fiddled a tune

That was simple and sad,

Afloat with a stumbling step . . .


Over hills tumbled trills

Like an elephants dance,

Into windows of bedrooms it crept . . .


Like a butterfly’s kiss,

In a whisper of bliss,

In the ears of the dreamers who slept . . .


Through a forest of bluebells

Where shivering flowers

Bowed down to the music and wept.


And outside flying all that eve

The frightened moth refused to leave:


Oh, brave cricket!, she exclaimed,

You saved my life, you are my flame!


I wish that there were more of me,

We’d slay the queen and set you free!


And all night long the wicked spider

Felt the song move deep inside her.


Touched the coal that was her soul

And made her heart feel lighter.


So, she said to the cricket: There’s no need to fret,

I don’t think that I’ll eat you yet.


I’ll throw a ball for bugs who brawl,

And punch and pinch with things.


A Hullababall for creeps who crawl,

And skitterers with stings.


Tomorrow night the bugs who bite

Will hear you play your wings!


We’ll do the hop and if you stop

You’ll get an awful whack!


So, cast your spell, and do it well,

Or you’ll end up a snack!



As the morning sun was warming

Meadow bugs came swiftly swarming

Save the cricket!

Storm the thicket!

Save him from the spider!


Pinch her bum

And make her run,

And all the bedbugs bite her!


With a flurry

Make her worry.

Hurry, hurry, make her scurry!


Save the cricket,

Storm the thicket,

Save him from the spider!


They tried every trick

But the web was too thick,

And they knew if they touched it

They surely would stick,

So the fight was the spider’s to win.



That night by the light of a great grinning moon,

From out of the fur of an itcy babboon,

From hills and from hives crawled spiders and ants,

And slithery snakes wearing argyle pants,

And proud purple prowlers preparing to dance.


Come one, come all to the Hullababall!


They wore their best dresses, and polka dot ties,

And sipped honey wine as they dipped chocolate flies.


And all of this time

the thicket was swaying

as if to some spell it was blindly obeying.


For deep in those sticks, never piping nor peeping,

Before that mean spider had ever come creeping,

A thousand smiling caterpillars silently were sleeping.


And now from their slumber the sleepers were waking.

The palace was shaking.

The branches were breaking.


Run for your lives! the spider queen ranted.

Head for your hives, the music’s enchanted!


But cricket kept playing a tune so entrancing,

The bugs found they couldn’t, they wouldn’t stop dancing.


Their green teeth were gnashing,

Their stingers were slashing,

They hopped to the blue cricket’s song.

They waltzed with a crashing 

– Quite dapper and dashing –

And leapt as it swept them along.


Then… everywhere blooming… with bright wings unfurled…

A thousand white butterflies entered the world.


At first they were groggy from all of that napping,

But then, one by one, little wings started flapping.


They stirred up a whirlwind of dancers and flies,

And the world all around them was rumbling.

And then, the pink moth in a waspish disguise

Appeared as the palace was tumbling.


Quick, Crick! Take my hands! she called to the cricket,

We’ll follow the butterflies out of the thicket!


So hands holding hands they leapt from the crowd

And into the rising white butterfly cloud.



Up up and away! on the wishing of wings.

Higher than spiders and higher than kings

They flew to the isle of the moon.


And last they were seen

The Pink Moth was queen,

And Cricket was king of the moon.


They ruled with a spoon

And a ticklish tune,

And they stayed there and played

Till the next afternoon.


Oh so high in the shimmering,

Shining and glimmering

Light of the smiling moon.


The moon, the moon, the moon, the moon,

The light of the smiling moon.

– The End –