I cannot remember a time when  I did not write poetry. I can remember finding this in my daughter's book when she was  7:-

       'It is snowing, it is glistening,

        It is time for Jesus' christening'

and thinking 'chip off the old block!'.

There will be poems from other sources too,all acknowledged.


My small black kitten, lost and unafraid,

In the Great Forests of the Garden played:

Gazed up at grasses, goggled at the phlox,

Gaped at the towering spires of hollyhocks.

My tiny kitten, lost yet undeterred,

Fled from a spider, chased a ladybird,

Leapt over shadows, fought a broken twig:

Slept, in a Great Green World ten times too big.

And I, on guard above him, large and wise,

Smiling to see the wonder in his eyes,

Laughing at tiny battles lost and won,

Looked down upon him, sleeping in the sun

And saw --- Mankind: set down awhile to play,

Lost in the troubled toils of each new day,

Sleeping at last within a narrow bed

And unaware of Giants overhead.                          Audrey Deal