This is the first poem I ever wrote

[Saffron]

I was ten and my title was something like 'Dark' or 'Nights'. I was so afraid of the dark. Truth be told, I still am.

As I feel the night close in
I feel my dread and fear begin
I feel as if I'm going to smother
I long for the presence of another

I clean the kitchen
scrub the floors
check the locks
on all the doors

I make long calls
on the phone
so I won't feel
so all alone

When daylight
begins to peep
I fall into
a fitful sleep

When I awake
things are fine
I made it now
The day is mine

As I feel the night close in..

[/center]


BTW, this is as close to a bio as I get.

[Jamie~poetshare.forumotion.com]

LadyB, this is a strong poem for a full-fledged poet, yet you were only ten?!? Strong rhyme and meter, yet you still kept the structure free enough to feel natural, unforced. Truly your essence is that of a Poet above all else. I am in awe.


*And chuckling at the footnote.

Don't worry about the cookie. It's non-fattening.

[fairqueen]

My sweet friend,

I can't believe you were only ten when you wrote this...but, you are a honest person (LOL), so I know it's true. It is very "adult" for a ten-year-old. Gosh! No wonder you're such a great poet now.

Love
Janya

[NewMan™]

for some reason, scrubbing the floors and cleaning the kitchen at ten reminds me of Cinderella.. you didn't have three wicked stepsisters did you? cute poem with an easy flow..

this shows to my over analyzing eyes that as a child, you didn't like to be alone, especially at night. Most kids sleep with their light on, did you?

Thanks for the "first time" offering, golly I would post my first poem but people might wonder where my talent went too so I'll hold that one back..

Love,

Danielson, the Pope of LaLa Land

[gentlewind ~~(Serenity)]

Very very good write.... I love you continued the first line to the closing...

Gentlewind

[Jim]

It's a beautiful thing to see the birth of a great poet. afraid of the dark doing whatever it takes to keep one's mind off it, yet, that strange attraction, eh? hi Lady B! happy day! peace, Jim

[Saffron]

Don't give me too much credit. I was in the third grade and we had to memorize and study the meaning of the poem *Trees* by Joyce Kilmer. The poem touched me in a way nothing ever had before.
The song like quality. The personal emotion I felt from a stranger. Our assignment was to write a poem about something we felt as strong about as this poet did about trees. I failed because I didn't turn anything in on time. It was too personal to do in such a short time. I wrote and rewrote for days.

I never did get some parts the way I wanted. At that age I did not have anyone to call in the middle of the night, but there was an automated number you could call for the correct time. I dialed that entity again and again just to hear the voice.

Thank you for being so nice, And Daniel. I did not leave the light on. Much to my father's chagrin, I left every light in the house on.


TREES
by Joyce Kilmer

I THINK that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.