Starlight in My Pocket
A song I’m learning says, “Catch a falling star.”
It says, “put in your pocket.” A clue:
keep it there for when needed, when things look blue.
Keep it, for when troubles start growing,
creating a fright.
The song says, “and they just might.”
Troubles are easy to forget without trying,
the lyrics say: all that’s needed, “a pocketful of starlight.”
Who’s got starlight?! Will it help when I’m crying?
I keep a rock from the beach in my pocket.
Smooth, to rub. Silky soft surface.
Dissipates worry. Works; don’t knock it.
Smoothed by the sea, not a scratch or scar.
Is it my “starlight”? Gives comfort;
like music, while driving the car.
Trees whizz by. I sing out, at the top of my lungs
releasing anxiety; things that have stung.
Not kept in reserve “for a rainy day,”
this orb, too, in my pocket, helps worries fall away.
An everyday tool. With me while I cruise,
in car, or on foot, singing the blues.
Editor’s Note: Here’s a link to the 1957 hit recording by Perry Como.
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