Sunday, 20 December 2009

‘Perfect’ said the Downs’ boy

‘How about marmite toast’ I said.

‘Perfect’ came a quick reply

and, with a push, a magic toast rack

kick-starts time - he nods his head.

No need for clocks, he’s on his way

when chewing starts a perfect day.

‘You’re luckier than most’ he means

‘but miss the move when life’s imperfect.’

A hand is ticking, ever moving,

clocking now with chances perfect.

Perfect every passing minute,

perfect as a melting snowflake.


  1. I have enjoyed following you and just stopping by to say...“Happy Holidays” and my wish for you in the coming year is that it will be overflowing with new and wonderful accomplishments.

    Best Regards,

  2. Thank you for the Downs Syndrome poem. Never have commented. Don't know why.:)