I will put in the bag
The soft silk of a blanket
Water from a sparkling waterfall
The trees touching the sky

I will put in the bag
A chair with stomping feet – ‘bang!’
A cup of the coldest water
A flash of bright lightning

I will put in the bag
Three silver coins
The first word of a new born
The last smile of an ancient uncle

I will put in the bag
A short season and a bright sun
A fairy on a farm
And a farmer on a unicorn

My bag is made of gold and silver
With flowers all around and smiles in the corners
Its fabric is the finger joints of a child

I will stroll in my bag
On the twirling leaves
Then walk across the soggy grass
The colour of a tree