So I was on twitter a couple hours ago and I saw a post that said “Where does poetry come from?” Plenty of people had replied with the likes of “from the heart” or “in a kiss” etc; you know, all those deep and meaningful responses you’d expect from such a philosophical question.
So what was I to add to that? That’s when that little demon sat on my shoulder said ‘let’s have a little fun’ and I scribbled the following down. Now I’m not one for poetry (he says having now posted a second poem in as many weeks).
I hope it puts a smile on you face.
Where Does Poetry Come From?
I found it in the cereal I was having for my tea, it said that I should plant it, looked like a dried up pea.
I put it in some compost and set it in the sun, by lunchtime on the morrow it had grown to five foot one!
By teatime it were double that, and had even eaten next door‘s cat, it started growing real strange fruit, like piccolos that you could toot.
It didn’t stop just grew some more, before I knew, it was through my door, It’s tendrils wrapped around my neck, I could barely scream out “ooh by eck!”
As it tried to rip out my heart, I jumped out of bed with a start, letting out the shrillest scream, I realised it was all a dream.
I think I’ll have toast for breakfast.