Stevie Taite Poems
A Lesson On Poetry From My Five Year Old
I sat in bed one morning
With a note pad on my knee
When in wondered my Charlie
And he snuggled up to me
He said, 'You writing poems?
We are learning that at school
I know a lot about them'
I said, 'Really mate, how cool'
He stared at me intently
As he stretched out on the bed
His legs crossed at the ankle
And a hand propped up his head
After I had sorted through
And read back what I'd penned
He slid off of the bed
And peered up at me from the end
He stayed there quite transfixed
It kinda put me off my flow
I looked over...
My favourite hour is spent at the lake, where my weight feels defeat
Conquering eddies with each stroke I take
Fighting the chill with my own body heat
My favourite hour is spent with the lake
Playing at how little splash I can make
White sound of a womb sees my stress in retreat
Leaving it drifting, back there in my wake