Floating Low Floating High


Ollie & his rambunctious pals

Chase me around the house

They holler “Look out!” to all the gals

And step on an unfortunate mouse


With jar in hand & gleam in eye

Ollie chases a tiny man piloting a speck of lint

I on my flying rug darting low & high

Escape up the nostril of myself in a coma & a leg splint


Meantime the election of the president never ends

It goes on & on as rogues & soldiers fight & die

Homes are ruined, masses flee, the border guard grins

And bargains ruthlessly for fees low & high


Pluckame, oh Pluckame, where do thee roam

In this Afghaneeland bubble made of fantasy foam

Village floating low, oh village floating high

In the cloudy tumultuous Afghanistan sky



Text Copyright Clyde Collins 2014


Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II




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