(For my granddaughter Aili Noel)

She swung, and swung, and swung so high
Until her silly swing broke loose.
She went so high up in the sky
She met a migrating goose.

The goose was on his way down south
And she was going that way too.
So on, and on, and on down south
The goose, his friends and she all flew.

So if you’ve watched geese going south
And if you’ve heard their mournful cry,
It’s just the sound of a little girl
Who swung, and swung, and swung too high.