I wrote a poem this morning. I call myself a poet so this should not really be newsworthy, but since I haven't written anything since September I'm rather pleased. After reading Jon Swift over my morning coffee, I stepped reluctantly (as ever) into the bath and there was the poem, knocking unexpectedly on my mental front door asking to come in for breakfast. Needless to say, I let it in. It was a lot more welcome than some of the visitors who've been knocking on that door recently. And it looks good, at first, second and third glance. When I've taken a fourth and fifth glance I may even share it with the world.
I bet you can't wait.