Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2016
The wind whisked soft curls from your eyes
as you giggled and swung up high
look mom, I can fly!
you called out a delightful cry
for an instant a wish filled my head
if only I could, I would
change your wooden swing
for golden wings instead
just for the joy to see you fly up high,
laugh out loud and touch the sky.
Naomi Buote
Written by
Naomi Buote  Quebec, Canada
(Quebec, Canada)   
270
   Stephan and John
Please log in to view and add comments on poems