Well… it was National Poetry Day yesterday, which is when I started writing this.
It does mention running at one point (so it does qualify here).
An Email came from school today…
An email came from school today,
That caused a bit of fuss.
It could be read a certain way,
I’ve summarised it, thus…
“Ask your child to bring to school
To put up on display,
Their favourite poem or one of yours ”
Well, bring it on! I say.
I’ll write the greatest piece of verse,
Or sonnet, ode or rhyme.
This is what I do for fun,
It’s how I waste my time.
My wife just smiled and looked at me…
…with love (…or could be pity),
For she knows I now won’t go to sleep,
’til I complete this ditty.
I get to work with dictionary/internet/thesaurus,
As I contemplate the structure,
Do I go with verse and chorus?
Are rhyming couplets cool?
(They are a useful tool)
Now how do you spell ‘limmerick’?
Should I go back to skool?
I toss and turn, try not to think,
How one bad line could spoil it.
It’s midnight now. I need a drink.
And then I’ll need the toilet.
Despite my doubts, it’s going well,
But I’ve not written quite enough.
It’s morning now. I’ve still not slept.
My word – I’m feeling rough!
“Some people have WAY too much time!”
My darling wife would say.
I might turn out the light.
I can’t! The night’s now day!
“You silly man!
They don’t want yours!”
(My wife thinks I’m a fool)
“A favourite poem’s what they want
to put up on the wall…
E.g. the greats like Wordsworth, Plath,
Byron, Keats or Shelley,
Not yours, you just run, bike and swim,
And watch bad films on telly!”
“Oh!” I sigh.
“I’ve done it now… I might just hand it in.”
It might go in the staffroom
(Or it might go in the bin).
Or be kept as an example,
Of how words can be misread,
And make a man a poet
When he should have slept instead!
I’ve finished now,
But please don’t think, great poems have to rhyme,
‘cos folks – they don’t, though up ’til now
This one has.
I tried a haiku,
But mine don’t always make sense.