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A poem about me

I want to paint the taste of feisty, fiery orange Fanta that tickles my taste buds as it slips off the glass like an ice skater.

I want to paint the smell of delicious, soft yet crunchy Yorkshire pudding and gravy as it engulfs my nose with the warm scent of my great auntie’s house.

I want to paint my cuddly cockapoo as he scrambled around in the car, not sitting still like a jack-in-a-box.

I want to paint the calm, comforting sound of leaves rustling in the breeze, as the sun sets like a ball touching the ground in the closing set at Wimbledon.

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