The sun glides in
Over the promising blank page
A child sits alert
Beside the
Lies a crayon set
A flower should he draw
Or a hut where he wants to stay
Or the kite that he saw
Dominating the vast firmament
Should he draw his school bag
His shinny shoes or a bunch of bees
Or a face with viridian green
Before the crayon touched the page
I woke up my duties await
No comments:
Post a Comment