Noah From Northside

In Northside Cincinnati, where old houses stand tall,

Lived a kind-hearted boy, named Noah, loved by all.

His eyes scanned the pavement, his gaze to the ground,

For treasures unnoticed, all over the town.

Noah's Treasures

Not diamonds or jewels, but humble, small things,

That a curious, gentle collector oft brings.

A penny, dull brown, or a bright, shiny new,

Would catch Noah's eye, as he walked the day through.

He'd bend down with care, with a soft, happy sigh,

"Another good penny!" he'd hum to the sky.

And feathers he'd gather, from robin or crow,

Each delicate plume, with a soft, gentle glow.

From blue jay to cardinal, no feather too small,

He'd pick them up gently, collecting them all.

His pockets would jingle, his hands soft and full,

With bits of good fortune, a comforting pull.

At home, in his room, neatly sorted and clean,

A treasure trove lay, a remarkable scene.

Each penny, each feather, a story to tell,

Of Noah's kind heart, and the magic he'd spell.