Dusty thoughts, mindful days, everyone
does play.
Classrooms sun, steamy room, waiting
there for you.
Flowers bloom, thunder fumes, laughter
lunch is done.
Habits form in shifting sight, purple skin,
those chubby fingers do so bite.
Feet with wings, shoes to tight, leading to
a pond in sight, so cool.
Socks come off, fish fall out, always knew
such breath a mint for you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem