My earliest memory of writing poetry was when I was in Grade 4. I wrote a poem about springtime. That day we all wrote poems about springtime because that was the expectation back then. That was writing as we knew it back. Teachers handed out the topic and the genre and we the young and inexperienced writers, dutifully responded. I recall my classmates liking my written efforts and suggesting I share my poem with our teacher, Mr Manzie. So, I took their advice and Mr Manzie liked my poem too. He invited me to share it with the class. When I read the poem aloud to the class their reaction was to clap in appreciation. This was a totally new experience. All these years later, I cannot recall the actual words of that ancient poem. They have long vanished. However, I have never forgotten the feelings that washed over me knowing other people enjoyed my written composition, my humble poem. The reaction to my poem ignited a spark energizing me to continue writing poetry, to persist...