I am inordinately proud of this poem.
Whenever I read at it, sunshine and lady-bugs start to dance around my imagination like little fairies of happiness.
This poem brings tears of wonder to my eyes and a thrill of joy to my heart. It delights my soul.
I did not write this poem.
My baby sister wrote this poem.
I have been bugging her to write a story for me, (since Thalia was given all her drawings, ahem!).
So one day, this seven-year old munchkin asked mother for permission to “write on the computer”. When she was done, the child – hereafter to be refered to as “Baby Loon” – handed mom this ‘story’.
Black at night, sunny in the day,
I wish, I wish God, help me to pray.
I want to do what is good for you,
Help me, help me, day by day.
I want to get to heaven soon,
I hope to meet your parents too.
I wish, I wish you can help me soon,
I am crying like a baby loon.
I can hardly wait to see you.
I really want to see you soon.
Come down from heaven into my heart,
And make me thankful all of my days.
*wipes away tears of pride*
You did not think that you would be getting two bad poem posts in succession, did you?
Not that they are bad bad, just mediocre bad.
But honestly, for a seven-year old, this is pretty darn good piece of poetry!
Her subject is rather blase, but she handles it like a simple, personal child-like prayer. Which is exactly what it is.
She demonstrates a natural linguistic rhythm and meter, mainly iambic tetrameter or pentameter. And a nice flow, and something resembling a rhyme scheme is in place.
She even manages to use a non-cliche poetic metaphor!
Come on, how often have you read about crying baby loons in poetry?
Then again, I am completely and unabashedly biased.
Oh, my sweet little Baby Loon is all growing up and writing poetry . . . .
I need to start compiling a reading list for her, to encourage and develope these natural skills!
Let’s see, Browning, Lovalace, Herrick, Belloc, Johnson . . . and then by Highschool she will be ready for Hopkins, Eliot, Pound, and Milosz.
Yep! That is The Plan.