Coloured gems –
Lots of them,
Tumble around
With a tinkling sound.
Given a shake,
They settle to make
A new design –
Just as fine.
A lovely sight:
A real delight.
The tube is rotated,
And I’m captivated.
Mirrors reflecting,
And patterns dissecting.
Each pattern is fresh
And cannot be guessed.
Each pattern it holds,
Is unique and bold.
At the patterns, I gaze;
With colour, they’re ablaze.
Each pattern, I view;
Each pattern is new.
Patterns changing;
Ever rearranging.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem