Mine it was, the poem from the distant past came inside from the doors open...
Shining bright in the darker dawn, I could see two lights not just one...
Concern flew at each of its word, but could see the poem baring it all...
What to say of myself, but just can't believe the poem is still the same standing tall...
The poemspeak or was it the honey dew...
And the poem's glee, it can't be matched by many a few...
Spring in the autumn this poem, it was bidding a goodbye and about to leave...
With all my courage I took a sneak peek at its starting line...again...
And there I found a diamond bracelet which was just fine...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem