In this pocket, beans that grow into palaces
where a giant woman will do all she can for you.
In this pocket, a needle that will sew your finger
back to your hand, when an axe chops it off in the forest.
In this pocket, the hairs from a bald man's head
which will make you a scarf when the frosts come.
In this pocket, a chain that will lock up the jaws
of the man who tells lies about you.
In this pocket, crumbs of black bread
that will find you friends who will never leave you.
In this pocket, sea-shells that will sing you songs
sadder than your grandmother's grave.
(Copyright © Michael Rosen)
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