Back when I was about the same age as I appear in this photograph, I already had a favorite book: a collection of children’s poems by Vladimir Mayakovsky. It began, "This little book of mine is about the seas and a lighthouse..." I covered every page with colored pencil drawings—not just because I loved to draw, but because the book, published in the modest, post-war era, featured only black-and-white illustrations. I craved the sun, the sea, the light, and the "colorful" sounds that filled the poems. I also wanted the letters in the book to be large—like the ones on the theatrical advertising pillars that served as my first primer. My mother would leave me by one of these pillars while she went off to shop for groceries; as she waited in long lines, I would trace the posters with my finger and learn to read. Later, when I began writing for children, these early memories proved to be deeply significant. I realized that children’s poetry simply cannot do without "colorful" sounds and large letters. And so, I now strive to include them as often as possible in every new book I write. In fact, that is precisely what the book you are holding in your hands is all about.