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SINBAD THE SPIDER AND FOTHERINGAY THE FLY
Sinbad the spider and Fotheringay the fly Bumped into each other and both said "Hi!"
"What are you up to?" the fly enquired "Spinning and spinning", the spider replied "Yet if I had wings as fine as yours I'd fly away to foreign shores! But I can't fly, indeed I can't So I spin webs and climb on plants!"
"At least as it happens, you have eight legs! That's two more than I, I think!" fly said "Is that a fact? You only have six?" Said spider, running along a twig "AND?it's tiring, sometimes - flying", fly said
As he twitched a bit and rolled his head Then off he flew "Adieu, adieu See you Sinbad. Well, toodle-oo!
The fly flew left - he thought that he must And in through the door of a big yellow bus He circled the people round and round Had a merry old time whizzing up and down He stood on their hats - he clung to the light
Stared out of the window - he thought that he might Then, sat on the bag of Mrs O'Fah, and He sang a few songs as she chatted to Pa The bus drove all the way to the coast The fly had a bird's-eye-view of a boat!
"Smashing!" he said, as the bus turned around Revving the engine to drive back to town.
Sinbad had had a fine day too! Spun a web on the car of Dorothy Brooge Spun it around the wing-mirror's face And tucked himself in to snooze for the day But she'd got in and driven to France
Boarding the boat with a judder and prance They sailed the sea - it didn't take long As quick to cross as a bang on a gong Down through the streets on yonder shore Sinbad held tight to the speeding door
They ended up in a little café Where they spent the most of the rest of the day.
Then, it was time to go home at speed Juddering and prancing quite horribly!
Drove all the way back to skid under the tree Sinbad laughed wildly and slapped his knee
"I've been to France!" he whistled, "Cool" As Fotheringay flew over the wal
"And I've been all the way to the coast!" Said Fotheringay, not wanting to boast
"Ha, ha, he, he, such travellers are we Come on, let's go tell Bertie the Bee!
Bertie was buzzing and buzzing about The song that he hummed was very loud
Flying around from flower to flower He sang the same note for hours and hours!
Pollen of gold clung fast to his feet So he brushed himself down. It tasted quite sweet!
"Be quiet! Hush, hush!" croaked a bright green frog With fingers in ears, sitting on a log
"What a noise, little bee!" cried a passing snail To Bertie, whose song had now pitched to a wail!
But his favourite tune just had to be sung From beginning to end, until it was done?
Giving frog and the snail his apologies He flew on high to the mulberry tree
"I'll finish the chorus up here!" he cried They nodded their heads with relief and sighed!
His day's work now done, Bertie flew off with haste And saw Fotheringay fly, sitting on the gate
Fotheringay said "Hello Bertie lad!" "Bonjour Bertie!" called the slow Sinbad
Climbing his way over bush, brick and flower "Wait for me! My road is much harder!"
Bee and fly flew straight to his side "Don't rush dear chap! Take a breath!" Bertie cried.
"Well?we've come to tell of out wayfaring day! It's been great! Do tell him, Fotheringay!"
So at Sinbad's request, the fly told the tale While the spider sat down on an old wooden pail
He told of the car and the journey to France And Bertie laughed at the judder and prance
Fly spoke of the bus-ride down to the coast And mentioned the boat. Not wanting to boast!
"Well, well!" hummed Bertie, buzzing around (He wasn't the kind of bee to sit down!)
"I'm all amazed! Yes I am indeed I haven't EVER seen the sea!"
"Well then?come with us next time!" They cried "A merry-trio. Bee, spider and fly!"
"Yes, together we'll go; somewhere to the coast We'll watch the sea and the painted boats!"
They laughed and buzzed so merrily "WHAT a trio, we will be!"
And as the sun set, with a golden haze The friends chatted on about their day.
Copyright 2001 Marianne Segal
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