I have written a number of poems for children so thought I would post this one, which is one of my favourites.
If pigs could fly, and elephants too, what would we do about the poo? For to receive a hit upon one's head would surely mean you'd end up dead! And as we walked across the town, while watching what was raining down, we'd need to carry steel umbrellas to avoid being hit by those big fellas! If it came from a bird we'd say 'Good Luck!' But not with this enormous muck! Oh no indeed, good luck it's not if the end result is a graveyard plot! So to venture out without your brolly would be utter madness and reckless folly; with the end result that you could die if you don't believe that pigs might fly!