The Island Where Llamas Play

The Island Where Llamas Play

For Cari

By Emma Jochum

Somewhere in the ocean, you know the one I mean, there’s an island full of llamas where the grass is always green.

On the Island where llamas play, the Islle de LLam to be precise, the hills are verdant purple, and the weather is mostly nice.

No one knows just how they got there, those llamas that love fun, but someday I will go there, away from everyone.

They need someone to serve ice cream, to paint the skies, and sugar the dawn. Someone to light the stars at night, feed the beetles, and tend the lawn.

Of course that’s just the hard part, the many chores there will be. What’s easy will be the company, just the friendly llamas and me.

In the morning we will run, after which we will graze. Next comes a lunch of burgers, but only on sunny days.

On the days when it is rainy, we will stay inside. I will read them funny stories, then I’ll brush their hides.

In the afternoons we ride our bikes, up and down the hills we’ll go. In the evenings we’ll play on the beach, where some will swim and some will row.

After a dinner of lasagna, or a salad of mixed greens, the llamas will go to bed, while the silver moon bird sings.

There we’ll all stretch out, how cozy it will be. I’ll wrap myself amongst their fur, and we will sleep, just the fuzzy llamas and me.

One day I’ll find the island, the land of llama rule. I understand if you don’t believe me, they never told us about it in school.

But it is real, this isle, this llama paradise. One day I’ll really go there, and I know I won’t think twice.

‘Till then I must be satisfied with llamas in the zoo, or on a farm, or at a fair, really anywhere will do.

But someday when you can’t find me, perhaps I’ll leave a note, on how to go to where I’ve gone, by aeroplane or boat.

Then you can come and visit, our magic island in the sea. There you may find us painting seashells, just my darling llamas and me.

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