The Autumn Season
This is a poem by my 7 year old grandson Callum Bradley
All the Autumn leaves fall down.
The leaves swirl down to the ground.
This is golden leaves season.
But, of course, there is a reason.
Children are sad today,
For they cannot go to play.
Rain sprinkles the heather.
Oh no! Not the weather!
Onwards, onwards the blows,
Faster, faster the river flows.
We are nearly knocked off our feet.
Autumn is not a treat.
We all hear thunder claps,
As babies settle down for naps.
The weather is getting cold,
And the bats begin to fold.
Fireworks soar to the sky.
Migrating birds begin to fly.
Things are getting chilly,
And it is not silly.
The daisies begin to curl,
And the wind begins to swirl.
Now that we are near the end,
Beware, the wind is round the bend!
Cynthia Buell Thomas
Mon 28th Oct 2013 12:41
I love Callum's developing vocabulary, his rhyming ability and sense of rhythm. I started when I was really young, and my grandson also has an innate imagination that works in metaphor. I do wonder if genes count a lot, or is it example? How delighted you must be. That last line is so typical of a very young writer - the POW factor like ten exclamation marks, a very good poetical strategy. And so what if an adult had a finger in the pie.