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 my gla**es
But he wasn't gonna go!
'Mum' he said ' has it got all
the things a poem ought
It should include good rhyme and rhythm
That's what I've been taught
Does it have some repetition
And patterns that are clear
What theme have you gone for? '
I smiled from ear to ear.
My Charlie, you've remembered well
It's Impressive, what you know
What else have you been taught then?
His face with pride did glow!
He ummed and arghed a little bit
To recall all he could
'Oh yeah, you need some 'wow words' too
They'll make it really good! '
I nodded with an 'oh I see,
Well thanks for all your tips'
He came and leant his head on mine
And kissed me on the lips
He left me to my writing
How adorable he'd been
And I put my first idea aside
And wrote one about him!