If I were a toy solider, I would sail,
A child’s paper boat of reveries,
When the afternoon was a languorous snail,
And the scent of sleep slept upon trees.
I would be the smile that played on his eyes,
When he slumbered, feverish and faintly sick,
When his mind was a bird in the skies,
And he heard not the metronome of life tick.
When he lay amidst sweet smelling books,
In which lived the spirit of strange fables,
Of wise men and magic and a forty crooks,
Of caves and castles and obscure gables.
With pale drawings like water colour sorrows,
Where the blue skies seemed wistfully sad,
Where gold and wonder lay beyond locked doors,
And bird and mice seemed remarkably glad.
And thus he would wake with eyes wide with glee,
And mother would soon find his forehead cool,
‘You are well my boy, so it seems to me’,
‘I am well but not well enough for school’
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Always wide eyed with wonder, prone to reveries and restless with an inexplicable yearning to create ever since he was a little boy, Jay wrote his first poem when he was six. He discovered the ore of his creative endeavors in the writings of his sister from which everything else originated, in attics filled with vanilla smelling old books, in savoring the classics and in intricate poems of Wordsworth and William Blake inlaid with rhyme…. His poems have snuck under editorial radars and appeared in global anthologies, magazines, newspapers and online journals. He also runs an idea shop called the Centre of Gravity, draws cartoons, directs animated short films and conceptualizes communication campaigns. All of which originate from the same artery of poetic longing that destiny charmed into his soul.