Author Anonymous The whistling postman swings along. His bag is deep and wide,And messages from all the world Are bundled up inside.The postman's walking up our street. Soon now he'll ring my bell.Perhaps there'll be a letter stamped In Asia. Who can tell? Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 Average: 4.1 (7 votes) Rate Log in or register to post comments