Two Legs and a Head.

There's a raincoat to wear,

There's a rucksack to choose,

There's a path through the grass,

Time to put on your shoes.

Tie them up tightly; we’re walking quite far.

And we won’t need a steam train a plane or a car.

Are you excited? Delighted? Your eyes open wide?

We’re ready to go and I’m right by your side.

Away we go on your very own path.

I hope you dressed warmly and took a sponge bath.

We’re out! Out in the open with smiling faces.

Passing others on the way to their own special places

This is your path. Over, under and through.

And wherever it goes, well, it listens to you.

Hold my hand tightly the path can get bumpy

And slippery and wobbly and funnily lumpy.

And sometimes you’ll slip and you’ll trip and you’ll fall.

But I’ll pull you back up with no trouble at all.

You might see a beach a balloon or a ball.

And you can stop for a while; it’s no trouble at all.

And when you move on, well, the path it keeps growing.

Because deep down inside you know just where you’re going.

A house by a tree or a boat in the sea.

Or a nice cup of tea in a massive marquee.

(There are plenty of places you might like to be.)

Hold my hand, hold it tightly it’s getting quite rough.

But don’t worry, don’t hurry, you’re made of tough stuff.

And when the sun starts to shine (that’s what suns tend to do.)

You’ll just wipe down your raincoat, you’ll empty your shoe.

Just keep walking, and talking, and learning, you’ll find

That the wet path is dry now, the rain’s far behind.

And next to the path, there’s a wood we’re agreed

had a hole from a finger, a trowel and a seed.

Are you tired? Are you hungry? Do you want to slow down?

Do you feel like a walk through a not so big town?

There are people to talk to, so many today

We’ll take some of them with us for some of the way.

And the good ones will stay and the bad ones will go

And some will be fast, even more will be slow.

There’s adventure around, there’s a friendship to make

There’s someone who’ll know which direction to take.

Because paths have a habit of suddenly stopping

Or twisting and turning and looping and dropping.

And sometimes we might find we’ve taken a right

Instead of a left, are we lost? Well, we might

Find ourselves in a place full of sharp bits and pieces

And away from our friends and our nephews and nieces.

And our path’s hard to find and there’s no-one alive

Because everyone goes home at quarter-past five.

And the time goes so slowly, we forget how to see

Any wonderful things if they’re not on TV.

And we stop walking.

But one day..

Through a gap in a curtain or keyhole.

You’ll find yourself suddenly starting to laugh.

You’ll open the door and behind it’s the path.

And it’s all yours.