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Four camels lived in the
desert so hot
And three were quite
happy to be there.
They enjoyed the heat,
the sand and times forgot,
And they liked having
fleas in their hair.
But one camel didn’t like
living in the sand,
He’d rather live near a
tropical beach.
He wanted to fish and
play drums in a band,
Or find a quiet job where
he could teach.
“I hate being a camel,”
he sniffed and he sighed,
“I hate living here with
you smelly guys.”
The other three took
offense and moved to the side;
They glared and gave him
the evil eye.
One day a storm whirled
through the land,
Tossing dust all over the
place.
“Help me! Help me!” the
odd camel shook off sand,
Then coughed until it
came off his face.
Within minutes he was
buried as deep as can be,
Not even a hair on his
hump poked out.
He couldn’t catch his
breath, or chase off one single flea,
So he started to yell and
to shout.
“Help me! Help me! I’m
sorry for what I said.
I want to live here with
you all.”
They dug him out and he
went right to bed,
Pulling up his clean
sheets and his shawl.
He never said another
word about his dreams
To the other camels;
uttered not a word.
“I hate being a camel,”
he’d whisper, “but it seems,
I’m destined to be one,
not a bird.” |
