In 1965, I was just 15 and in Year 11 when my first literary endeavour was published; a poem I penned at home on my own initiative that I showed to the teacher responsible for our annual school magazine.
A time before, the sun ablaze,
Its heart was beating still,
But now, towards its death it moves
And all is lying ill.
A time before, the heavens blue,
No clouds to scare the sky,
Where peace and beauty reigned supreme
But now, all is to die.
The darkness comes, and death is here
And all is grey and sad,
But look not down, for morrow comes
And all again be glad.