Children

I'd like to start by wishing all you lovely readers out there a fantastic new year. I've enjoyed being a part of this blog over the past months and noticed as I was writing this that we have passed 11,000 hits. Thank you to the regular bloggers, thank you to the guest bloggers and thank you to you guys (and gals) out there for reading.

On with the blog then and, I feel I should apologise. Last week I completely forgot about writing a post until late evening, Christmas day. If you were wondering why David Riley's post was up for two days, it was firstly because he made the effort to blog in time for Christmas and mostly down to me being on a bus, drinking. 


Our first theme for 2012 is Children. As this is a poetry blog, I was immediately drawn towards looking back over the children's poetry that inspired me to love writing. The Spike Milligan stuff we've covered here before. My first poetry book, again covered here before and so, I became increasingly frustrated and decided I needed a new angle.

What we have here then is a bit of an insight. A look toward the future, from the past. Nobody is pregnant. Nobody is planning on being. I just thought it made an interesting concept for a poem. Oh, and though it is only a first (okay, third-ish) draft, it does mean 2012 has already been more productive than December 2011, one and a bit days in!  



 Children

 Sitting back, swallowed up in a tin box of smoke we saw stars
 between the stickered mementos, stuck up on a chipped windscreen
 and I remember you said, never. You never want children.

 So soon in, with each first date still marring the framed sky
 you were quite clear. Under the past we looked up to you said you knew
 for sure, just exactly what we were in this for.

 So in the park, I wasn't sure I heard at first
 the hyphenated name that passed your lips and mailed to me,
 a half perhaps that came and went like dandelion seeds.

 Those same seeds that grew like weeds on every bitter path
 we went to pave. Between the cracks, old poet's names peeped through
 with my eyes (not my first choice) and your cheeks.

 And over time those seeds of doubt have manifested
 into conversations had. Grown oversized to cloak the rockery
 still half undug but long forgotten- those arguments can pass.

 We talk of names now. On the strict proviso that not yet-
 the time not right and sure, I love the sound of that
 for once you know, I guess you know. I will gladly know.



Thanks for reading folks, have a great 2012.
S.