Over Parshington, a white stroke flew
Carrying a baby to where Africa grew
He was taken to a vast family of six
A family of black and white all a mix
He grew up in dearth, beginning by birth
But nothing stopped him ever, being a blissful mirth
He tilled the soil and asked for toil
And lived in grains forgetting his pains
He prized his time and saved his dime
And lived a life worth greater than words
Over Parshington, a white stroke flew
Carrying a baby where Africa grew
In looks he was poor, but inside he was pure
He was worthy of every touch
And worthy of the lot much
He lives a life of pleasure
Having love as his biggest treasure
Over Parshington, a white stroke flew
Carrying a baby where Africa grew
OCTOBER 10,2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sonia your writing ability far exceeds your age. This is a wonderful poem I really like it. You have created a rich, refreshing river of rhymes that transports your thoughts into a sea of success.10....Keep on writing you have a bright and blissful future as a poet.