Dust always blowing about the town,
Except when sea-fog laid it down,
And I was one of the children told
Some of the blowing dust was gold.
All the dust the wind blew high
Appeared like god in the sunset sky,
But I was one of the children told
Some of the dust was really gold.
Such was life in the Golden Gate:
Gold dusted all we drank and ate,
And I was one of the children told,
'We all must eat our peck of gold.'
wow, what a nice little poem! Why did I read it so late in my life? Why not when I was in my school days? ? Thanks dear poet.
Overall, this poem is just a speck of dust. The winds of time have already blown it away.
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An insightful piece nicely embellished with poetic rhyme and rhythm. A beautiful creation...
An illuminating poem that shines like gold.....Marvellous
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
............a wonderful poem with such amazing lines ★ All the dust the wind blew high Appeared like god in the sunset sky,