If I Could Catch a Shooting Star

If I could catch a shooting star
By Liz Haughey

If I could catch a shooting star,
On the tip of my tongue;
Would it make my wishes come true?

And if I could catch a butterfly,
Would she let me fly away too?

And if I was the baseball fan,
And my tongue was the glove,
Could I catch foul balls from above?

But shooting stars, butterflies, foul balls
Will land in places they are meant to be.
Far away in eternity.

For with my tongue,
I will catch a snowflake,
Made of delicate iced lace.

An intricate star of romantic beauty,
Melting away on my heated tongue,
And in an instant it is gone.

If only,
If only I could catch that snowflake,
And it would last forever,
Not just and instant in eternity.

Eternity is where the shooting stars,
Butterflies, and foul balls of yesterday,
Go to land,
For tomorrow is another day.

Filled with more,
Shooting stars, butterflies, and foul balls too.

And maybe, just maybe
I will be able to catch a shooting star,
And make my wishes come true.

Or catch on my tongue the butterfly,
And then from her learn to fly.