As a child my hobby-
Rock collecting, and poetry writing.
Hours were spent,
my pointy nose inches from soil,
daylight, my shadow and me
Digging with whatever sharp tools
were found in the garage;
in my own back yard,
…..Fools gold, mini garnets,
rounded globed octagon treasures,
my rock book was miffed,
me smiling, entranced,
By middle age I question,
When did the grape become my hobby?
It wasn’t even my favorite fruit.
If only I’d stuck to rock collecting
And poetry writing, and stayed true