Sarah Gomes Munro
Some brains just aren’t the same
It’s a wondrous thing the brain
Quite the machine, don’t you think?
But it can go a little loopy
When it gets a little chink
There is no explanation
For why these bumps occur
But such wondrous things can happen!
Like to little Sandra Fir
One day for no good reason
As she played in her back garden
A pop! A fizz! A splurk!
And in front of her sat Martin
Martin had five legs
(The extra for shaking hands)
A sausage kind of body
Bright blue with yellow bands
“You’re Martin from my dreams!”
Cried Sandra with no fear
“I heard my head go fizz
And now you’re standing here!”
“Indeed, how’d you do?
I was living in your head
But now we can play
Without you having to be in bed!”
As Sandra was only little
She didn’t stop to think
Why Martin’s furry body
Left no shadow or footprints
For now you see dear reader
I must give you a hint
Sandra had finally flipped a switch
Of which she’d been on the brink
Her brain channels had been opened
There was no stopping them now
And all her crazy weird concoctions
Just kept on flooding out
Bright feathers! Strange heads!
Green zebras were dancing!
Paws were on backwards! Parrots were prancing!
Extra wings! Extra eyes!
Fur here, there and yonder!
Why not add a few wings?
There were no limits to the wonder!
Sandra was surrounded
By her bunch – oh so merry!
Where were they from?
She was never even wary
They were all so very kind
None of them were scary
But little did she know
They were all imaginary
So all was fine
Until along came Mary
“Sandra stop at once!
Your brain must have popped!
You’re talking to no one,
Is that normal? IT IS NOT!”
“Oh Mary come play!
I’m not alone, can’t you see?
But you are over there
And there is no need to be
So come meet my friends!
Come over to me!”
But Mary couldn’t see them
Nor could have you, or I
We’d turn away tutting
Maybe even pushing out a sigh
The truth is Sandra’s brain
Was whirring away non-stop
As it would continue to do
Ever since it had gone POP
It was blowing up with colours
It was pumping out ideas
Her brain was such a racket
As though full of trumpeteers
It was wonderful! It was madness!
I’m sure you would concur
But the problem was of course
It was visible only to her
The only person to believe it
Was little Sandra Fir
Now Sandra grew up fine
Along the way forgetting her friends
But because her brain had fizzed
She knew they weren’t pretend
She may seem a little odd
If she talks to someone you can’t see
It’s only because she’s never alone
Is that the same for you or me?
And she knows she never will be
With some creativity