in tiny letters
is written a tiny poem,
tiny fingers on tiny hands
tread across a tiny keyboard.
a tiny voice calls out,
here I am!
I am small
and tired!
I am hidden behind
a tiny tea towel
screen printed with a
tiny pig whose lips
are coated in peppermint,
whose hands are protected
in tiny gardening gloves.
a tiny bar of chocolate
lingers nearby, soon all to
be gobbled up by a tiny
box with tiny postage
stamps to be picked up by
a tiny postman driving a
tiny truck.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment