I came home from the Albert Hall
on clouds of music that delighted me,
the first time I’d heard a symphony.
Mum, I said, you have to hear this music.
But it’s so hackneyed, dear, she replied.
Not to me, I grumbled and sighed.
The ears of a child hear what’s really there
and rejoice in the ever-new.
I’m old now, and that is what I try to do.
A true story. RedWolf Poems says: Much of the reward in speaking, reading and writing comes from breaking open a world never seen before in a new light. Hold this thought and write about it.