witing journey

You ask me to write 

of how i became a writer

I watch my children write and wonder 

Does this too pass in the blood, 

My mother who loves to read 

My father who tells stories like conjuring water from a fountain

Who revelled in my kiddy rhymes

Till i felt i could write, maybe, thensecret thrill when i was announced a poet 

But baby steps only

That now spills over to see the 11 year olds stories

And i know this just grows and grows 

F