I Like To Think That I'm A

Christmas Is Taken Very Seriously In This Household. I Believe In Father Christmas And There's No Way I'd Do Anything To Undermine That Belief.

Poets Sing Our Human Music For Us.

I Always Say That I'll Have A Go And See Whether The Poem Works And If It Does, Then Fine.

Where I Lived - Winter And Hard Earth.i Sat In My Cold Stone Roomchoosing Tough Words, Granite, Flint,to Break The Ice. My Broken Heart -i Tried That, But It Skimmed,flat, Over The Frozen Lake.she Came From A Long, Long Way,but I Saw Her At Last, Walking,my Daughter, My Girl, Across The Fields,in Bare Feet, Bringing All Spring's Flowersto Her Mother's House. I Swearthe Air Softened And Warmed As She Moved,the Blue Sky Smiling, None Too Soon,with The Small Shy Mouth Of A New Moon.

I Like To Use Simple Words, But In A Complicated Way.