
All this is new to me, both eating with a spoon,
and singing.
Well, poetry if you would call it that.
You see while I am learning to eat with a spoon. sometimes people help me, I am also learning a thing called Free Verse, or Spoken Word.
Last weekend I spent a night at my grandma and grandpa’s house.
It wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns.
I knew that my parents had tricked me, and they were leaving me here.
I spent a lot of time looking around for my parents even though I knew that they were out having fun, without me.
I even stayed awake for several hours after 3 am just in case they would return.
But really, I wanted just have grandpa carry me around for hours, and
I thought it would be nice if him and I went for a little walk,
at 6am.
I know that you can learn a lot of things from your grandparents, even if they are odd, really odd,
I meant old, really old.
This weekend I learnt about Free Verse and Spoken Word.
This is the poetry I learnt as I was having my breakfast and getting some of it in my mouth.
Here it goes.
The song, the poem, the spoken word.
Blueberries, Blueberries,
I have them on my nose.
Blueberries, Blueberries,
I don’t want them on my toes.
Blueberries, Blueberries,
I see some on my chair.
Blueberries, Blueberries,
I don’t want any more, in my hair.
Blueberries, Blueberries,
I think I like apples better.
WORD,
Or is it WORD OUT?
What do you think of that poem?
Perhaps I will be a Longfellow, or a Harry Baker, even a William Shakespeare.
Are you an underground poet?
Remember to subscribe to my Blog so that you don’t miss out on any of my upcoming adventures.
I wonder what my next adventure will be?
Remember to leave a comment.







Leave a reply to Roger Currie Cancel reply