Whew!

My weekends are packed full with sport for the three boys, family time, gardening, house stuff.

Where did the hours go?

Thinking about poems is easy. Making myself write ideas, or editing a poem, is way harder.

Rain on Friday night stopped some games on Saturday. My team played, we lost 1-3 to Mapua.

So, here is a poem about me, about football and about poetry.

Spin Doctor

I am my own spin doctor,

silk thread winds and

my cocoon develops, encasing me.

It is soft, warm & silent,

protective even,

at first.

I blink and the cocoon becomes a house

and my family grows,

requiring cleaning and maintainence,

time to feed and care.

Nappies, paint, crumbs, stains.

I leave for work and return.

Put off fun, enjoyment

and become

that flat guy...

but, grasping the nettle

I don boots, a Wakefield strip

and take the field

as a metamorphized

Poetry Guy!

Andrew Thompson