POEMS

THE POET

He sprinkled the page with wonder and joy
Of stories in rhyme when just a boy
Times he played with his favourite toy
And ran through the fields with his best friend, Roy.

When the sun was high and he felt free
To jump the stream and climb the tree
With flowers seducing the bumble bee
Laughing as he fell and grazed a knee.

He smiled remembering the jumping frog
And how he got stuck in the smelly bog
Then running like mad from the grunting hog
With Patch, his crazy, spinning dog.

Now the poet is sixty not ten
He couldn’t do now what he did then
Flying through life like an excited hen
But with his words he does it all again.

the curious life

From "This Curious Life"