Today my grade 7 classes and I were talking about the Poet Laureate - who he is and what his job is. This led, as one would imagine, down all kinds of interesting paths.
"What do you think he might write about today?" I asked them.
"The Olympic torch!" [It passed through yesterday on the way to Vancouver, making a fabulous mess of traffic.]
"He might," I agreed. "But what rhymes with "torch"?"
"Porch!" everyone shouted.
I can't help myself - once we start down a path like this I am absolutely unable to stop, no matter how many warning signs I see.
"I bet he wrote one like this," said I:
I saw the torch
From my porch
It was hot
But I was not.
It's one for posterity, so it is.