I didn’t like to admit it but I always hated poetry. My brain would turn off at the mere mention of it. I didn’t want to hear it and I certainly didn’t want to write it when I was forced to in school. When I began homeschooling my children I didn’t want to pass on my distaste for poetry so I made myself read it to them. I still hated it.
“Mommy, where do the birds sleep at night?” my four-year old asked as we were looking out the window on a spring morning at the life outside. The little birds were hopping from the trees to a little patch of green grass and back again.