Little Milly with her
ancient dress and hurricane hair,
walked with a limp
and talked with a smile
as big as the moon.
Little Milly danced to
the sad faced stranger
picking a penny from
the walk where she'd walked
a moment ago.
Little Milly with her
waning smile and melting
eyes, spoke to the wall.
'You're lucky', she said
'if you're lucky at all'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem