Mes amies, I decided to mix things up a little.

But first, let me share a little secret: I’m a published author now and a travel blogger for fun—but before all that, I was once a poet. Poetry was my first love… even before Mr. French, if you can believe that.

Sometimes in life, we’re told to keep moving forward and not look back. But every now and then, I think it’s good to return—to spend time with long-lost friends.

When I was a child, writing was that friend. It accompanied me in my happiness, my boredom, my loneliness, and my tears.

Today, I’m paying tribute to that dear old friend.

I’m a little rusty—poetry feels very different from novel writing. If I sit long enough with a book, the inspiration flows. But picking up the pen to write a poem is like brushing up on piano playing: if you don’t press the keys just right, they make no sound.

Then you remember—ah, right. I forgot that part.

The keys might be dusty. They might need a little tuning. But the notes are still buried inside.
The notes are still there.
The music… is still inside.

So mes amies, I hope you enjoy “I was once a poet.”

And if any of you have left your quill somewhere in the past, I hope this inspires you to go back and search for it. Pick it up, embrace it like an old friend, and tell it you’ve missed it. Then grab a sheet of paper and take it for a ride in the wind.

Let the wind carry you both to a world unknown.

Stay young, stay curious & stay true
Je suis JaTon