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.