Magic Man
Yes I know a man
Who with his quiet magic hand
Can turn a room of quarrelsome heads
Snarling for each other in self-regard
Into the running, tumbling, laughing
Children of 4 that they once were
Yes it is his gift to them
Sprawled unconscious to themselves
And for this one chance they must yield
To him the knowledge they have been
To play in wonder, freed from thought
And careless for an hour again.
poem by Frank Bana
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.