The other day I was busy videoing myself reciting one of my poems, my eldest grandson Daniel, who is only just eight, asked what I was doing. After I had explained he said, “I am going to write a poem”, and set about getting a pen and paper. After about ten minutes he came back into the room and recited this poem, I know that every grand parent thinks that their grand children are special and that the sun shines out of every oriface, but the fact that he produced this poem in such a matter of fact way blew me away, I think it is brilliant, I think he is brilliant.
Waves, waves wonderful waves,
Waves, waves crashing on each other like dominoes.
Waves as big as mountains.
Waves, waves magical waves softly plashing near me.
Waves, waves, salty waves,
Waves saltier than salt.