I spy with my little eye, something beginning with L.
Give me some clues, you try to glean.
Oh, I shouldn’t tell. Alright, it is in this room. No it’s not lounge nor legs nor lamp. But yes, it has four letters. Perhaps it can’t be seen.
I hear with my little ear, something beginning with L.
Is it lisp or lick or loud.
I’ll give you a hint, well - it rhymes with both a type of bird and something that keeps you warm. Perhaps it makes no sound.
It’s something you do, it’s something you feel and more than one person’s involved.
It’s light and it’s right, can be endless or trite;
Of course it’s got to be _ _ _ _.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem