Autumn is upon us which means Winter is not too far away. I love Winter because I like to dress up in lots and lots of clothes and roll down hills.
I would like to be in Paris, rugged up, mainly rolling down hills but every now and then I would stop to drink hot chocolate at a fancy cafe while I wrote some poetry. Poetry is fun to write, mainly because there are fewer words than a novel and it doesn’t have to make a lot of sense. Below is a poem I wrote many years ago for a paper called the Condobolin Argus.
My Mum always says when it’s raining,
We’re not to be heading outside,
But being inside is so boring,
With never a fun place to hide,
So I take the hose from the garden,
And bring it on into our house,
When I turn on the tap all I hear is a scream,
Like Mum has just spotted a mouse.
Mum turns to me with her face burning red,
And she screams, “What on Earth did you do?”
I say, “Mum can I go outside now?
Because it’s raining inside our house too!”