All of my friends are up there, in the sky. I wish I could join them and learn how to fly.

Ron, the raccoon, watched them all with a sigh, And longingly whispered, “I wish I could fly.

In the thick, bushy forest, with tall, swishy trees, There was chirping of birds and the buzzing of bees.

But that cannot happen, as much as I’d like. I’ll just stick to walking and ride my old bike.”

I would fly over mountains and play with the snow. I’d leap, way up high and I’d hover down low.

I’d soar through the clouds with the wind in my face, I’d challenge the birds to a nail-biting race.

I tried hopping high, using all of my might, But I didn’t take off in a magical flight!

I dream of that too! I’ve tried so many things, Like flapping my ears trying to use them as wings.

A fluffy white bunny popped up, looking shy, “I heard that your dream is to learn how to fly.

A shuffling of bushes made Ron turn around, He cautiously looked, trying to follow the sound.

I sprung from big rocks but each time I just fell, I jumped from a tree… but it didn’t end well!

Together, I’m sure, we can work this thing out, Our odds will be better, without any doubt.”

So the bunny and Ron became friends straight away. Then something quite interesting happened one day.

They went to the village to visit a fair. “They’re selling balloons!” exclaimed Ron, “Over there.”