An Ode to Three

three of heartsI don’t remember the ‘threenage’ years all that clearly with JJ although I was plunged into the newborn juggle at that point and I’m pretty sure there were some testing times! Just lately I have had the pleasure pain of a full re-introduction to just what the age of three can bring to the unsuspecting parent. One minute you’re minding your own business, going about the old routine, the clothes, the breakfast cereal, the inevitable choice of Cbeebies brain freeze, when bam! Out of the blue, displeasure, defiance and downright dissention rear their ugly heads.

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If I had more time…

speeding time

If I had more time I would follow my nose
to a land exotic to my eyes,
bask in the glory of reading for hours,
lie on beaches, take in shows.

If I had more time I would go for a run,
I would go for a cycle, join a club,
learn how to crochet, bake like Berry,
learn how to switch off and have more fun.

If I had more time I would make a plan,
map the future, pinpoint the route,
take a scenic drive to my destination,
waymark the journey through my whole life’s span.

If I had more time I’d become green-fingered,
cultivate roses and honeysuckle,
watch things grow like a stop-motion movie,
enjoy my hard work, potter and linger.

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Favourite poems…

I have to admit that whilst I love words, language and writing I sometimes hear the word ‘poetry’ and it turns me off until I remember to actually read some classics and it sets my imagination on fire and reminds me of all the beautiful things that can be done with words and the feelings they can invoke. My grandma was a huge fan of poetry and she used to have a lovely book of best loved poems which I would pore over as a child and I once copied out some favourites but I don’t know what I did with those notes. Something recently triggered a memory of one of those poems and it made me want to try and remember…

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Losing the muse…On writing

When I was a young teenager I used to love writing so much. I wrote everything from diary entries, to a romance novel, to poetry to a sit-com! My mum was a journalist of sorts and both my mum and dad went to, what was, The London School of Printing (my dad was a graphic artist) so when it came time to decide what to do after school ended I was thoroughly encouraged to apply for a course in journalism at (then) The London College of Printing (now The London College of Communication). I duly applied, was accepted for the interview/testing day and was put through a series of gruelling challenges and an interview which weeded out the less able and was (thrillingly!) accepted onto a two-year Btec HND in periodic journalism.

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