The Little Penguin

On top of the cliff, a flash of black and white,
A trail of icy mist lies in its wake.
It hurtles o'er the edge and out of sight,
A penguin's life and much more is at stake.

For this li'l penguin had the thought in his head,
The flippers by his side were really wings.
The thought ne'er crossed his mind he could be dead,
For flying seemed as easy as swimming.

Inspiration had come when he saw another fly
Away from a thrashing killer whale's jaws.
He thought, If they can do it, so can I!
Though it defied all Mother Nature's laws.

Before hitting the waves he finally started to glide,
He didn't quite fly but felt like it inside.