You are made of a lot less,
than snips and snails
and puppy dog tails.
You remind
me more of the
biting scorpio type.
Crawling around on your
knees in arid mud,
full of lethal
poison speak.
Oh, so you are
a Capricorn you say.
Makes sense.
You sign is a
sea-goat.
Quite fitting.
Horns and a
fishy tale or two.
All rolled
into one.
I see stars in your
eyes, even as
the man in the
moon and
I share a knowing
laugh.
You've exhausted
starlight wishes
eons ago. Even
Winkin, Blinkin, and
Nod perish the
thought.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem