has lost all patience for poetry.
Rummaging in dusty corners,
clearing the shelves
with no appreciation for image or rhyme.
I bribe him through the first half
with raisins and sugar-free biscuits,
struggle to be a poet for one afternoon.
We skip out on writers I’d relish
to sit on the toilet floor,
flipping through Peepo eighteen times.
My turn in the spotlight
and his antics distract, amuse
more than my poems
a whirlwind of energy.
Poetry and a one-year old
make bad company.
* * * * *
Gerry Stewart is a poet, creative writing tutor and editor currently living in Finland with her young family. Her collection Post-Holiday Blues was published by Flambard Press, UK. She blogs about writing at http://thistlewren.