Pyjama Llama R.I.P.

 

I once knew a llama who could read for an hour

Until he felt calmer; and then jump through a hoop

Or a blue plastic loop just to make sure

He was fully aware he was wearing his hair

In the style of the day; not a retro-affair.

But more than this and less than that

He was the only llama I ever did know

Who wore his pyjamas while playing in snow

When skiing or boarding, it was always the same

He’s pull on his jim-jams and start playing games.

When it got dark he’d ski faster and faster

Even although he had one leg in plaster.

He was more like a cheetah than a Peruvian mule

A bit of a speedfreak, but still pretty cool.

His favourite trick was jumping off the lift

Before the chair had reached the ground

He’d push back the bar and always found

New ways to leap from up on high.

But one day oh! reader dear, he misjudged the height

And disappeared. Until this day he’s not been found

The rescue teams have looked around.

The slopes, the piste, the bars, the town

They stood and looked and searched

From many distant panoramas

But never ever found that llama

Or a trace of his pyjamas.