This afternoon’s Poetry Treasure Hunt produced an unusual subject. Here’s the poem (a joint effort) created by Emily, who I think would be about 7, with her mum and dad Gail and Donald and little brother Sam.
Millipede in the cafe, all black
and shiny and hard-shelled, curled
in a relaxed circle on the floor.
Emily saved it. Now, it’s outside
making a new home
on a plant.
And in among the Make a Bird Feeder workshop, I made a poem for Beth and Niamh and Finn:
She hammers a nail held
in her father’s fingers. She blinks
at each blow of sound,
Her baby brother grasps
his hammer, squeals
with joy and swipes