The twenty-second poem from my poetry collection Conception.

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Double Dutch

It’s a long story
how you teach a child to speak,
but, once they start,
toddlers don’t stop talking.

“One day…” “Mummydaddy!”
“What you waving me for?” “I fine.”
“I looking at thing over there.”
“It’s thunderlighting.”
“I go up sky.”
“…the shop behind the clouds.”
“I can’t open it cos it’s closed.”
“Bubbles, they’re liquid.”
“They’re my favourite.”
“I eat them all up.” “They go crunch.”
“What’s that gap do there?”
“I bouncing.” “I jumping.”
“I can jump myself,
don’t help with me.”
“Oops-a-daisy!” “I blooded.”

Listening to this tale from anyone else,
I’d think them an imbecile,
at best a befuddled foreigner,
but from your mouth it makes perfect sense,
                                                             almost poetry.