Buoyant beauty born from breath, drifting through the breeze, a gentle giant in enchanted air, floating freely like a fanciful feather.

Another you appears in me, yet cannot leave, nor truly be.

Oh magical fruit The more you eat The more you toot! Where have you been You fabulous...

I'm worn in pairs but have no feet, I serve you well on court or street. Though I have a tongue, I cannot speak.

I'm the Atlantic to the ants, A vast and murky sea, To birds I'm an oasis, They drink and bathe in me To children I'm a fun distraction, In which they stomp and play, But to the sun I'm nothing, As it quickly burns me away