The Poet in You

Some people say the sky’s big and blue. But you sigh it’s forever-lasting, never-ending, aqua-true.

Others will say it’s foggy today. But you groan there’s a bone-rattling, soul-freezing haze.

Some kids call quick, let’s put our shoes on! You shout let’s speedily lace-up along.

When you’re sad, you say I’m slow-moodily blue. These wild-wonderful words, they’re the poet in you.

Write the world your way. Let your words soar and sing. Poetry, it’s a big-beautiful thing.

Some people say look, the garden is flowering. You sigh pink-petaled spring-magic’s a-towering.

(Flowering and towering, they rhyme, and you know it. You weave wonder from words – that’s what makes you a poet!)

What’s that cranky noise? Some kids say I’m stomping. But you shout I’m not-fair-ily crash-cross kerlumping!

Some people say bye – hope I see you later. You say may our journeys weave ways in the future.

May I walk beside you, our shadows ever-tall. May we jump rope together, till the end of it all.

When you’re happy, you say I’m warm-sunshine-ish fine. I’m skippity-hoppity laughing inside.

See the world your way. Let your poetry sing. Wrangling with words is a glorious thing.

Some folks, they’ll say the sky is so black. You say terror-blue midnight ate all the light up.

Others remark it’s rainy today. You say clouds are blue-sobbing, like hope’s drained away.

Some kids call quick, run, it’s the ice-cream van! You shout heaven on wheels, sweet-step fast as you can!

On lonely days, you sigh, and say I’m all rowed out because that’s what you feel like, adrift and unfound.

See the world your way. Sing your word-love true-big. Let your poetry tumble, and rumble, and sing.

Even all rowed out, or slow-moodily blue, you should always love dearly, the poet in you.