FOREIGNERS
Dear little foreign friend,
How strange, you seem to me,
The way you live, and what you eat;
In your home, by the side, of the sea.
Do your teachers, understand you.
As you repeat, you're A B C's,
Do they smile and nod approval;
When your, 2 plus 1, makes three.
Does your Mother, give you a good-night kiss,
And tuck you in, each night,
These questions, are whirling, in my head;
Please hasten, and set me right,
I'll check with the postman, daily,
That your letter, will arrive, posthaste;
I must hurry and finish this missile,
There is not a moment, to waste.
I received your foreign letter
From your home, by the side of the sea,
I hastened, to open it - quickly,
To see, what had been written, to me.
You began - Dear little foreign friend,
Which sounded, so strange, to me -
I'm wondering - who is foreign,
That little boy - or me.
-Elizabeth Wallace Morehead-
Copyright owned by the
Wallace and Morehead
families.
Created with the CoffeeCup HTML Editor
~ ~April 16, 2003~ ~
