Heaven

A place with trees and hills to climb
When Nature calls to him
And, in the heat of summertime,
A pool in which to swim.

A place with pantries full of cakes,
Or cookies, crisp and brown,
Where there could be no stomachaches
For Castor oil to drown.

A place with streams teeming with fish
Of every size and sort
Where he may gratify his wish
For restful outdoor sport.

A place where necks, and hands and ears,
Though smeared with dirt and grime,
May go unwashed throughout the years
Of never-ending time.