Many Pockets Deep
Oh, I once met a tailor by moon’s silver gleam,
Who sewed me some pockets that whispered and dreamed.
They shimmered with secrets, they jingled with lies,
And each time I reached in, I found a surprise!
Pockets deep and pockets wide,
Where moonlight and mischief hide.
A coin, a spell, a noble’s ring
You never know what luck they’ll bring!
A wizard once offered to buy them with gold,
Said, “They’re stitched with the stars, and older than old.”
But I laughed and I bowed and I tipped my wide hat,
For pockets like mine don’t take kindly to that!
Pockets deep and pockets wide,
Where moonlight and mischief hide.
A feather, a flame, a key that sings
You never know what gift it brings!
From old town markets to king’s grand halls,
I’ve traded with spirits and answered calls.
But when danger comes knocking and swords do clash,
I pull from my pocket and vanish in a flash!
Pockets deep and pockets sly,
They carry dreams that never die.
A wanderer’s heart and fortune’s tune
My pockets hold the fickle moon!
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