I am a poet,
At least, I'm trying to be,
Trying to recreate a sonnet,
In everything I see.
Always having a look,
At things around my town,
I carry a little notebook,
So I can write my ideas down.
Go through a park,
Trees and grass to be seen,
Can't help but think how dark,
Or what different shades of green.
Reading different words,
They're around me all the time,
When I reflect on what I've heard,
Do I have to make it rhyme?
I go and take in the weather,
And then before I know it,
I'll try and piece it all together,
So does this make me a poet?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I'm pretty sure you're getting there Paul. This is open, honest and heart felt. Well done.