Now and then my mother gets it into her head to send me poetry I wrote when I was little. I have posted at least one of these before, but she just sent me these a moment ago, so I post her email in its entirety
(Early Works, age 11 or 12)
a poem in itself
a mathematical complication, a 3 digital figure
Love – Beauty – Virtue – And other corny junk
Chinese Noodles and fried asparagus noses
But all it really is – is 3.95.
What is a thought?
A being –
A state of consciousness –
Or even a butterfly?
The wind is a thought –
A thought from the creatures above
The rain is a thought (a soggy thought)
Even lifeless boogars are a thought
But – what is not a thought?
Stay tuned tomorrow for the next episode of Philosophical nonsense
For one thing, I’ve always enjoyed photography and I love drawing and plants. I’ve always wanted to be a writer (I always have been anyway!)
I love flowers and birds, live beautiful bursts of color and energy, believe it or not, I think that even flowers have a personality.
I also like to read a lot. I started reading when I was about two, and I could read “Charlotte’s Web” when I was 3 and 1/2 . When I tell my friends this, they don’t believe me, but it’s the naked truth.
One thing that drives me crazy is slugs. I don’t mind snails, but slugs! Yuk!
P.s. This is only of the corniest things I’ve ever wrote.
Love from Mama