Comments about Stevie Taite
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...
To this point in time the ride had been rough
But the demand on posture to counter the motion would be forgotten
As impatience fermented foretaste
We took the detour,
Passed crisp, transparent slopes
Where mostly water fell into man made lakes
And the now distant mountains, with their treacherous descent would become
Embellished with a layer of illusory snow