My poems start with a rush of emotion.
I quickly drink it in like a potion.
I throw some words around in my head
While on the nursery run or lying in bed.
For this feeling I have been waiting so long,
For all those years I was getting it wrong.
For all this time I've been writing fruitless prose,
And nothing seemed to come to a close.
What I'd forgotten was that when I was at school
Some of my poems were actually quite cool.
Then one day soon after I had my first son,
I read a friend's father"s poem and thought 'I could write one! "
And in a few days the poem was written,
But still by the bug I had not yet been bitten.
That poem didn't see the light of day
Until my son's fourth birthday.
Encouraged by comments I decided to write more,
And at last this genre I started to explore.
And now it seems I have found a new voice.
And finally I have made the right choice
I am not an author I am a poet
And now at last I finally know it!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An insightful piece well articulated and nicely embellished with poetic rhyme and rhythm. Thanks for sharing, Jenny.