Ah to be a writer
With a pocket full of words,
I jingle them fondly
Which might seem
Weird, absurd,
But they do reassure me,
And are with me, everywhere
And above all
When, I'm lonely
They show me
That they care.
This poem is a treasure, thank you so much for sharing it! it makes me wonder of differences between poets and children which I feel it may be the sound coming from their pockets, both pleasant yet not equal: coins, disappear with a puff~ but little words may keep around waiting for other kids to come.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Simply touching, dear Ma'am Sandra....10+++++++++++