The Walrus and the Starfish talk
of things few others do,
like where do clouds fill up with rain,
and why the ocean’s blue.

“I think, dear friend,” the Walrus said,
“that we should try to fly.
Just think of all the things we’d see
if we could sail the sky.”

“Oh, not again,” the Starfish said,
“I can’t take any more.
If you recall, my flippered friend,
we tried that once before.

“We flapped our arms ‘til they went limp
while passing seagulls laughed,
and big blue whales came swimming by,
and said, ‘You must be daft.’”

“Oh, Starfish, ye of little faith,
can you give up so soon?
We’d play hopscotch from star to star,
have luncheon on the moon.”

“When we come home, can we go back,
dance on the Milky Way?
And could we ride a shooting star,
grab comet tails in play?”

The Walrus said, “Of course, we can.
We’ll do the things you said.
And when we’ve worn ourselves plumb out,
why, then, we’ll go to bed.”

They went along in silence and
the two walked hand in hand.
A friendship like this needs no words -
their hearts will understand.