I would rather like to be a hat
A caddish one, with a brim and perhaps a feather
And a red ribbon lining
That I could impart against your part
And sit rakish and jaunty upon your, shall we say, quiff
I would make the most whimsical of hairpieces
An obscurer of shy hairlines and greys
(What hirsute grace!)
A phrenological trickster, an adder of height
But! There's more!
In return for your legging me around
I would protect you from the zeffyest of breezes
From the spittliest rain and the shittiest birds
(Pardon my French)
And then, when you tired of me
And decided that maybe a beanie was the way to go
Or a coat with a gnomic hood
(It would be understandable)
I would rather like to be frisbeed across a pond
Where I could lie back and watch the
Breath of aeroplanes arcing by.