Gifts Poem by Francie Lynch
Gifts
She gave me a stone,
And her turkey wish-bone,
She'd been saving.
Then presented a pen
She'd hid in her sock
Under her bed,
In her special box.
These are her gifts;
They're all that she's got.
Gifts from a child,
Giving and smiling.
She's not eccentric,
To her they're aesthetic;
If I'm worthy,
Tomorrow,
There's a blue-ribbon stick.
Friday, June 17, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: children
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5/4/2024 4:39:58 PM # 1.0.0.1119
