I love poetry – reading it that is – writing it- well that’s a whole other ball game. So here’s pretty much my first attempt at a poem. It’s free verse because, well, rhyming – that would be a step too far. Apologies for not following the theme!
“Tell me something about your day,” I ask, like I always do.
“My day,” he replies, in a dream. Thinking of dragons, maybe, or dinner.
I’m expecting great things.
Experiments, discoveries, spelling bees, formulae.
“I drew a face on my rubber,” he says.
“Then me and my friends ran around in the playground.
The rubbers were monsters.
James got devoured.”
Not great things, then.
But good things.
I’m not disappointed.
He had fun. That matters.
And that makes me proud.