Monday, 15 July 2013

Poet in the Making

   Today I'm featuring a poem my niece wrote, when she was just eleven years of age. I'm sure you'll enjoy it as much as I did when I first read it seven years ago and of course still do.

 The Garden Path
Along the garden path I walk,
And suddenly the trees begin to talk,
The insects whisper gently to me,
Just like a shell talking to the sea.
The garden path so long and winding,
Sometimes it looks so dark and frightening,
In summer the sun glistens down,
I feel warmth and pleasure as I look around.
Small white daisies so rare and defined,
The birds swoop around for food they must find,
I walk further down the garden path,
And I feel natures magical wrath.
The garden path so long and wide,
Just like the boat that follows the tide,
The garden path comes to an end,
I find a deep red rose round the next bend.
The garden path went away,
I wish to see it again some day.
By Megan V. Copyright 2013


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