Wednesday, 20 April 2016

Juvenile poetry 101

I spotted this really old post in my drafts today and fancied giving you a few chuckles, if you like.

Autumn has lasted long,
the leaves rustle in the breeze;
they are blown away into the distance beyond,
flowers lift their heads.
The brook breaks into a song,
the trees whisper to each other simple nothings;
the birds chirp and take flight,
the sun smiles at me from behind the mountains.
I feel the grass in my hands,
the breeze now caresses my hair;
I open my eyes...
this is no winter;
spring has just begun,
it looks like it is here to stay
for a long time now.