It’s World Poetry Day! Hope you enjoy reading all your favourite poets. I’ll be revisiting Emily Dickinson, Robert Frost, Elizabeth Jennings and Dr. Seuss amongst others, and perhaps trying a little writing of my own. In the meantime, this is one I wrote earlier.
My Inner Child Likes Chocolate
My inner child likes chocolate.
She gets it everywhere.
It stains her Flintstones T-shirt and
it dyes her yellow hair.
She reads A. A. Milne upside down,
dad’s glasses on her nose,
then will recite it word-perfect
as though it were Austen’s prose.
My inner child writes poems
about cats and ladybirds.
She tries to complete crosswords in
an attempt to learn new words.
She’d love 101 Dalmatians,
and a little brother too,
but her parents put their foot down,
so her sister will have to do.
She paints modern masterpieces
that she offers to her gran.
(Her gran may not know what they are,
but she’s her biggest fan.)
She loves sports and competition.
She loves the sun! the rain! the snow!
She asks questions to get answers
her mum doesn’t always know.
Doesn’t think about her future –
it’s so very far away! –
for her, it is light years from now;
for me, it is today.
I see her every now and then –
though less as time goes on –
on holiday or in the park,
but soon enough, she’s gone.
I do not approach her often,
wherever she may be.
She wouldn’t want to realise
that one day she’ll be me.