The Bricklayer
An early bricklayer climbs Up the scaffold growing high,Oana watched him many timesWorking hard, close to the sky. When the wintry chill was sore,T'was a heavy coat he wore. Today his strong arms are bare,Sleeves rolled up in the spring air. And towards the joy-filled
May Day
The First of May,The First of May,The whole town's marching on this day –Little red flags everywhereWaving brightly through the air. Girls and boys,In convoys,Through the streets sing of their joys. Wheat field, wheat field, within hours,You are going to unfoldThrough
Fashion
A sad, broke kangaroo suddenly sprangInto the path of an orangutang. The latter said: Your pocket is the best. What about you? That's quite a hairy vest. They struck a deal 'neath the ylang-ylangAnd launched the model kangorangutang. from Holiday Games, Cartea
The Polar Bear
You leave a four-pawed trail,Your fur is white as snow,Guess you don't have a tail – Bears don't, far as I know. For bears at the North Pole Sport is a common goal,While South-Pole bears appearQuite unprepared to hear. You are my only bear,Complete with monogram,
When Dream, Play And Innocence Are Serious
Where do I come from? I come from my childhood. I come from my childhood as from a country. Antoine de Saint-Exupery Is fascination with childhood a convention? No, inasmuch as, for most of us, childhood was filled with wonderful things and games, fairy tales and ingenuity,