Who brings me the tears of rainbows blue?
And smiles the choice of rose hips-hue
That brings to me the moon's gentle dew.
With kisses soft—as slender new.
Who brings me the laughter of bluebells white?
And dances those greens; like a garden sprite.
That brings to me, the azure morning light.
Like a thistledown angel lost in flight.
Who brings me the meadow's flowing flaxen hair
And whispering words spellbinding without a care
That brings me the same sense of wonder's rare.
Like woodland lilies under a leafmould layer.
Who brings me the moons, gentle dew?
With kisses soft; as slender new
With smiles, the choice of rose hips-hue
Why yes, my child, it's you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem