After dark we have a blast
with flashlights in the night.
We play with the shadows
until daylight hides the sight.
Darkness becomes beautiful
with every flashlight sway.
The shadows are a form of art
where creative fingers play.
The wall is painted in the dark
and my hands make a design.
The sight of a duck or dog
are from the best of mine.
My fingers make much more
when I bend them into shape.
If the light fills the entire room
my masterpieces will escape.
The shadow's are brought to life
in the darkness where it stands.
I control the beaming flashlight
that displays the art of hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This can totally be in a children's book of poems :) I like it