Johnny and the Wig

Johnny was sleeping one Saturday night,
When all of a sudden he woke with a fright.
For there at his window hovered a wig –
A fine mane of hair, dancing a jig.

This vision of hair, oh my, what a sight!
With threads of pure gold that gleamed in the light.
Thousands of fibres bobbing as one –
A shimmering hairpiece, blonde as the Sun.

Now Johnny was speechless, bereft of words.
For he often saw bats and he often saw birds,
But never a mass of glistening hair,
And so the poor boy did nothing but stare.

This yellowy wig, it swooped and it swayed,
Came right to the bed where Johnny was laid.
It hovered awhile then slowly it dropped,
And onto the top of his small head it plopped.

Now the wig lifted, and took Johnny too,
Away from his bed and his toy kangaroo.
Away from his parents, Johnny did fly,
Out of the window and into the sky.

And oh what a muddle! What a to-do!
Could it be real? Could it be true?
This small freckled boy who should be in bed,
Flying through the air with a wig on his head!

Up he did travel, up to the stars.
He smiled at Venus, whistled at Mars.
Floated past Saturn like a balloon,
Until with a jolt his feet met the Moon.

What seemed like a dream had become a nightmare.
For here was young Johnny, with his new hair,
Alone on the Moon, that desolate rock.
Unable to move, frozen in shock.

And then in the darkness something did creep,
A strange little shadow crawled from the deep.
"Is this a beast?" asked Johnny with dread.
"Have I awoken some creature undead?"

But there was no monster, nothing to fear,
No terrible figure of doom drawing near.
Just an old man, more ancient than space,
No hair on his head, but a smile on his face.

"I am the Man on the Moon," he did bleat.
"Some call me Cuthbert, some call me Pete.
Some call me Shoop-shoop-shalala-shazam,
But between you and me, I’m an elderly man."

"The hairpiece you wear was made for my head –
A fine tribute to the hair that I shed.
And one week ago, this wig I did send
Down to your Earth, to find me a friend."

Now Johnny did wonder what he had done
To be the wig’s target, the chosen one.
He pondered awhile, regarding the man,
And in his small head he came up with a plan.

"You seem a kind man," said Johnny with glee,
"And I’m really happy your wig flew to me,
But I’m not too keen on staying with you –
I miss my warm bed and my toy kangaroo."

"Oh come to the Earth! Please come back with me!
I’ll teach you to swim and to climb up a tree,
I’ll show you my house and my wonderful Mum.
Oh Man on the Moon, please do say you’ll come!"

The elderly man now scratched his bald head,
And after a few minutes silence he said:
"You’re right, little one, it’s lonely up here –
Each time I see Earth I shed a small tear."

And so the two parted, hand in warm hand,
They flew back to Earth, back to the land.
The Man on the Moon and Johnny in flight,
A beautiful end to a beautiful night.

So when you next see an odd-looking pair,
An elderly man and a boy with long hair,
Give them a smile, sing them a tune –
It’s probably Johnny and his Grandpa Moon!

(The fully illustrated version can be seen here... http://www.blurb.co.uk/books/2874043)