“Had to read that crap in school. Didn’t like it then and don’t like it now.”
Many folks don’t like poetry, for whatever reason. I, on the other hand, do. And if you’ve been a reader here for any length of time, you might recollect one or two poems I’ve posted. I’m not a reader of poetry myself, but I don’t need to read it in order to write it. At least that’s what I think. And if you think different, and would like to offer a critical analysis of any of my poems throughout the next several days (April is National Poetry Month) please feel free to comment as much or as little as you like.
Words can say whatever you want, or need, them to say. I feel the need, usually in April, in spring, to express myself in poetry. Whether it be one of mine, yours, or from any number of poets, writers, bloggers, school students, politicians (a poet politician??), or whomever.
With the above disclaimer out of the way, I’d like to share with you, during the month of April, an occasional poem that I think is relevant to life, in and out of the garden. We’ll start it off with an original.
on hands and knees,