The Manuscript Poem by nimal dunuhinga
The Manuscript
It's like a braille and I touched the buttons.
Then I saw the kind Gypsy Santa
He was combing his gray beard.
' It's very delicate like a woman and handle carefully son.
Each button gets currency notes in different countries
When you press gently.'
My beloved grumbles in the morning
When I said Merry Christmas to her.
'I couldn't sleep the whole night
Because you were typing a manuscript.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 5:20:22 AM # 1.0.0.1119
It would seem that Santa Claus was good to you at least in your wistful dream. Very vivid as always. Warm regards, Sandra