Poems
OK, admit it. When you were a teenager and full of that angsty hormonal mess that Nature decided you deserved, breaking your voice and giving you acne and meltdowns, you wrote poetry. It was in your secret diary, and it was (you now realise) bloody awful. Still, everyone does that, right?
Well, I didn’t. I glided smoothly through my youth with nothing more than a bit of occasional spottiness. A model of rational stability that any parent would be grateful for. So, no angst, no meltdowns, and (therefore?) no poetry.
And now…I understand that, actually, that was a losing hand. So, partly by design, I’m having an adolescence now, a little bit (well, quite a lot) later in life. Dammit, this is fun – why didn’t I do this back then? I mean, yes, there are bits of Down as well as Up, but at least there is some life to be had now.
So, along with this, comes the…urge, I think, to create writings, and poetry in particular. And for this, I owe a huge debt of gratitude to the person who, above all, encouraged it. My Muse, if you like: thank you!
Fun: happiness, play, and whimsy
Less fun: sadness, distress, pity