Nita S. Balma

(Augusta, Georgia)

The Magic Music Box

Poem by Nita S. Balma

That music box on Grandpa's wall
Was magic to my eyes
I loved to hold and try to play
that guitar, twice my size

One day, I thought of nothing else
So, when the school bell rang
I was off to Grandpa's house
To strum those strings again

I waded thru two babbling brooks
Loving every step I took
Then paused to smell the sweet incense
Of honeysuckles on the fence

They'll miss me home at suppertime
But I think dad knows he can find
His little girl at Grandpa's house
with that guitar across her lap

Then found a guitar, all her own
Would keep his little girl at home
And Happy too!, for I play well
Tho' years have passed, I love it still.

Comments about The Magic Music Box by Nita S. Balma

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: guitar, girl, magic, school, house, music, home, happy, love

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003

[Report Error]