Wake up in the morning when the alarm rings,
Open the window to hear a bird sing,
I comb my hair into plaits set for the day,
Go downstairs to make a brew and my mind begins to play.
Words and rhymes run amok; I string words together,
I grab a pen and note it down before they disappear forever.
I read it back to myself and hum a little hum,
Pleasantly surprised that another poem's done.
I get myself on the bus and take in every feature,
Then a poem starts again this time it's about a creature.
From a floaty little butterfly to a buzzy busy bee,
I always think of more to write and then sign it with a 'C.'
All day long my head is going, it never seems to end,
Poems about laughter fun and games or memories of friends.
A poets life is over run with topics for poems to write,
It starts from early in the morning , til you go to bed at night.