I remember that first English lesson where “poetry” was first introduced to all us kids at school! I broke into a smile, “ooh I like rhyming words at the end and the challenge to do one on any topic.” The whole class that day was a hummm of unhappy beesthe groans, the moans and bursts of “I dont like poetry,” filled the air like some mad party had begun. For once amongst the crowd of school kids I was happyarmed with “pen” and not a “sword” would be my weapon to Victory! My victim to read my own poetry out now as an adult is my dear sister Jill, as Ive suddenly took an interest in it all over again. I would launch onto Jill when she was sat with her feet up with a full cup of coffee, “there was NO ESCAPE” of the poetry, she was a sitting duck! The downfall was I was terrible at reading out loud and clear and Jill just wasnt a poetry lover, ah the silence at the end when I read one out, my eyebrows up! “over to you Jill,” “Jill are you listening?”What has been nice is to rhyme about true events in life, simple everyday things and here they are!
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