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cathycade
cathycade Just writing
Autoplay OFF   •   3 months ago
My kids grew up with nursery rhymes before computer games, With treasure hunts at Christmas and on holiday when it rained.

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My kids grew up with nursery rhymes before computer games,

With treasure hunts at Christmas and on holiday when it rained.

'Doctor Foster went to Gloucester in an April shower.

'You'll find your next clue lurking in the cleaning-dragon's bower.'

From picture clues for young ones through to anagrams and verses,

That's how my rhyming first began: clue-spells and witches' curses.

In time they grew, as children do, moved out, and back again,

but mostly went, their childhood spent, and I took up my pen.

Retirement would bring days of leisure: silver hours to spend

creating more sophisticated output; shape and bend my words to fire the senses,

in lines wrought to touch the heart;

learn rules that underpin blank verse and understand at last.

But time, that inched and crept before, now strides its way downhill.

Elusive words I know are there - somewhere - evade me still.

And grandchildren are growing, ripe for rhymes and picture clues

to search for treasure, as their mums and dads all used to do

And I can churn out jingles with no care for ballad, ode or sonnet: just rhymed doggerel.

I'm back in default mode.

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