We will walk to that emerald hill my son
We will hike to the top of that hill
Then I’ll lift you up as high as I can
On the top of that magical hill
I will pass you a jar that you can fill
With those milky white clouds my son
With your tiny hands you’ll reach for the sky
And fill our sparkling jar
Then we’ll walk down that hill, back home
My son and watch those marvelous clouds
In the jar, on the hill, in the sky, my son
Yes, we’ll set them free in the lounge!
On the floor of the lounge we’ll lie hand in hand
We will stare at those glorious clouds
Till the sun goes down at the emerald hill
My son, then we’ll sleep deep and sound.

For Moritz: that your dreams may last forever!
AntwortenLöschenHoi Gerard,
AntwortenLöschenDat zijn twee prachtige gedichten voor je zoons. Ik heb ze met plezier gelezen.
Groet,
Frits
Hartelijk dank :-))
AntwortenLöschen