The poetry post

Poems, eh?
Truth is, I just can't create them.

I'm too verbose and lack the discipline to restrict my words.
Why write a few lines about something when you can write a whole book?
Or even a series?

But I knows what I likes and I likes what I know.
I have some wonderful poetry books on my shelf.
*waves at Barbara Smith and John Ahearn*

Anyway, First Born had to write a sonnet for his homework yesterday.
I don't know about you, but I reckon this is pretty impressive for a (not quite) 13 year old.

You were like a summer's day,

Warm and relaxing like the air;

So colourful red, blue and yellow but never gray.

Your skin was like velvet, smooth and fair.

When I was in trouble I knew to reach

For you would grab and hold on to me

Your hair was like the golden sand on the beach.

You were as unpredictable as the sea

And as mysterious as a cold misty night.

Like a secret spy under cover

You were stunning but hiding from the light;

I was so happy to be your lover.

I want to tell you before the door closes,

Your life was a shower of sweet red roses.

RIP