Sketchy 'Squito hid behind the oak tree,
his big, bug eyes looking 'round carefully.
As Sketchy looked up and down, and around,
fear, death, and danger was all he ever found.
He looked up high and saw a fly trap,
sweet and sticky like maple tree sap.
He looked down low, and what do you know,
a hot, bug-zapper, ready to go.
He looked to the right and what did he see?
A fly swatter swatting as fast as can be!
He looked to the left and saw over there,
spiders lurking in their dark lair.
He looked behind him, his eyes filled with dread,
and saw mountains of mosquitos, still and dead.
He said to himself, wings above his head:
“I've got to get away from this dangerous place,
I need to find a much safer space!”
Sketchy flew along, and kept an eye out,
for the danger that always lurked about.
He shivered and shook as he fretted and flew,
for an old apple tree came into his view,
its gnarled branches like the hands of death,
ready to grab him and take his last breath.
Hiding behind a cloud like an iron shield,
Sketchy felt better, safe and concealed.
Taking a deep breath, his wings over his head,
Sketchy looked up and finally said:
“Excuse me, Tree, but do you know,
of a place where I could go,
a place where I could finally find
a safe space and some peace of mind?
The Tree smiled and did reply,
looking Sketchy straight in the eye:
“Sorry, lad, I know of no such place,
as there is fear in every space.
I don't know where you could go,
to live in peace, without fear or woe.”
Sketchy flew on, keeping an eye out,
for the danger that always lurked about.
He shivered and shook as he fretted and flew,
for an old maple tree came into his view,
with a buzzing beehive near the top,
so Sketchy screeched to a sudden stop.
Under a maple leaf, he curled up small,
hiding, hiding to get away from it all.
Taking a deep breath, his wings over his head,
Sketchy looked up and finally said:
“Excuse me, Bees, but do you know,
of a place where I could go,
a place where I could finally find
a safe space and some peace of mind?”
The bees smiled and did reply,
looking Sketchy straight in the eye:
“You must be looking for the special space,
that knows no name, time, or place.
We know of it, oh yes, we do.
But where it is, we haven't a clue.”
“But their is someone who might know,
someone high up in the Land of Snow,
an eagle high up on a mountaintop,
so icy and cold it'll make your heart stop.
But you'd be crazy to go up there!
But go on if you must, if you dare!”
So Sketchy flew high and he flew low,
he flew up to the Land of Snow.
Up, up, he went, to the mountaintop,
with crunchy cliffs and a deadly drop.
Covered in ice, Sketchy flew up high,
much higher than most mosquitos ever fly.
Nearing the top, the sun began to rise,
painting soft ripples across the skies.
Perched up high, an eagle sat alone,
silent and still on his icy throne.
With no place to hide, no where to run,
Sketchy stood still, facing the rising sun,
ready to face his fearful mind,
sick of being so scared and blind.
He took a deep breath and bowing down,
paying respect to the sacred ground.
“Excuse me, Eagle, but do you know,
of a place where I could go,
a place where I could finally find
a safe space and some peace of mind?
Still as the calm before a storm,
the eagle sat tall, in regal form.
He looked Sketchy right in the eye,
and with the rising sun nearby,
Sketchy relaxed and finally let go,
as he stood still in the Land of Snow.
His fear melted like ice in the sun,
dripping down until there was none.
The falling snow turned into rain,
washing away past fear and pain,
a rainbow appeared in the magic sky,
fluttering around like a butterfly.
As they stood, eyes locked in space,
Sketchy saw just about every place.
Both earth and sky, both peace and pain,
now seeing the rainbow as well as the rain.
Without a word, Sketchy finally saw
that when the ice of fear did thaw,
the world was very bright and clear,
no longer smothered by his constant fear.
He smiled at the Eagle; the Eagle smiled back,
nodding his head as if tipping his hat.
Sketchy bowed down, with nothing to say,
and then he continued on his way.
Down, down, he went, down the mountaintop,
with crunchy cliffs and a deadly drop.
He flew high and he flew low,
he flew away from the Land of Snow.
Sketchy flew back to the beehive,
screeching to a halt from a nosedive!
He smiled at the bees; the bees smiled back,
offering him some honey in a bug backpack.
Sketchy flew back to the old apple tree,
branches sprawling as far as can be.
He smiled at the tree; the tree smiled back,
offering him an apple as afternoon snack.
Sketchy flew and finally made his way,
to where he began his quest that day;
back to the spiders in their dark lair,
back to his home, if he did dare,
back to the zapper, and the fly trap,
sweet and sticky, like maple tree sap.
back to the swatter swatting as fast as can be,
back to his home to see what he could see.
Sketchy looked high and he looked low,
he thought of his time in the Land of Snow.
Beyond the fly trap, Sketchy did see,
the far-reaching hug of the old apple tree.
Below the bug-zapper, Sketchy did find,
a bookworm reading about peace of mind.
Beyond the fly swatter, Sketchy did spy,
a ladybug helping an old butterfly.
Behind the spiders in their dark lair,
a spry silkworm was spinning silk with care.
Beyond the mountains of dead 'squitos and bugs,
little baby beetles gave out Baby Bug Hugs.
With his wings at his side and his head held high,
Sketchy smiled and said, with a knowing sigh:
“I don't know why I had to go
all the way to the Land of Snow,
to see that here, in this dangerous place,
I have finally found a safe space.
For peace of mind is always near,
