The Toy Shop Poem by Eleven Lin

Walking in the heavy rain with an umbrella,
I find an antique toy shop at the street corner.
A guitar leaning by many painted ponies;
Music boxes begin to play the symphonies.

The wicked witch is riding on a flying broom,
Clutching in her hand a fake crystal ball of gloom.
The wind-up cat is holding a balloon of white;
The tin soldier frowns at the corner bottom right.

The wizard's apprentice is about to show
Fortune-telling with tarot cards to the scarerow.
A silver pot is hanged on the tree by the elf.
Rosaries upon the forbidden book are on the shelf.

Against the shop windows are my fingers.
It's on the dreamy shop that my heart lingers.