Hop with me: a dabble with poetry

Hop with me

4,3,2,1!

Count my steps to see them run

pairs of Bata, white or grey,

Once they stomp, 

Twice they skate

on faded chalk numbers

glittering with sweat --- 

tiny beads, melted in zest

1,2,3,4

Look how fast I cross the floor

my Bata is grey, 

Black from days

of hopping with feet

on Tetris things

Now they lie in a dusty space

of old cupboards

no feet to grace

But in the black soles

I see laughing faces

in a circle of colours

of a time

now shaded

They may travel to Ubin,

these shoes too broken to wear

but

Their smiles won't travel

anywhere

4,3,2,1

Won't you hop with me?

~fin~

Here's a poem from yester-night, in loving memory of the old hopscotch games at the blue-ground open-air sports court of River Valley Primary School. Those days were back in the 2000s when I was a kid. The place has changed alot now and I haven't been back. But those days were gold. Especially sports days and idle play.

I am planning to write a poetry book and release it maybe in August, if not August then in November. Poetry has never been a very strong thing of mine but recently with the rapid pace of life I've been picking up the pen to self-express - be it strange thoughts, things I saw in the day that made me happy, or past memories that bring joy. The habit of penning a poem of two has been keeping up for quite a few days now and it has been pretty therapeutic - poetry lovers out there, or non-poetry lovers even, don't stop doing what you love, it can save your soul (unless it's drugs or alcohol or anything unhealthy for that matter - addiction is never helpful). 

I hope this poem brought joy to you as it did to me, and may you have a great day ahead in passing by my blog.