In the whirl and the twirl of the airport so vast,
Roams a hedgehog, a traveller, first class to the last.
She can read every timetable, knows every gate,
She can navigate customs, never once late.
She could help lost passengers, point them the way,
She could decipher announcements, brighten their day.
But what she would rather, as she waits for her flight,
Is to nibble on chocolates, pure delight in each bite.
In the lounge so luxurious, plush seats all around,
Sits a hedgehog who’s familiar with every sound.
She can mix a mean cocktail, make the finest of teas,
Can converse in all languages, put everyone at ease.
She could offer sage travel tips, share tales of her roam,
She could help weary travellers feel more at home.
But what she would rather, as the hours unwind,
Is to bask in the sun, a good book in mind.
At the gate, in the queue, with her ticket in paw,
Stands a hedgehog who’s never been caught by the law.
She can scan the fine print, knows the rules inside out,
She can soothe a scared child, calm their fear and their doubt.
She could ease through the security, no fuss and no mess,
She could guide others through with calm and finesse.
But what she would rather, as the final call came,
Is to find a quiet corner for a pre-flight game.
In the air, high above, where the world seems so small,
This hedgehog knows that she’s seen it all.
She could do anything, given the time and the space,
But she knows what truly matters, in every place.
She cherishes journey, and not just the end,
She sees every moment as potential friend.
So she’ll savour her treats, read, or play funny game,
And she’ll travel the world, every journey, the same.
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