This is by way of a reblog from John Spiers, whose posts don't have a 'Reblog' button. Click this link for the post from his blog mylifewithgracie.com which gives links to two websites: one to assess your poems and another to assess your song lyrics. As those who follow my poetic efforts will be aware, … Continue reading But is it Poetry? (2)
(To the tune of Under My Thumb by the Rolling Stones, 1966) Under my feet, this little dog gets in the way. Under my feet. Why won’t she get lost when I say? She’s hounding me, while waiting for a crumb to slip, Hounding me, brown eyes entreat. She’s under my feet. Under my feet. … Continue reading Under My Feet
For those with time to look online today... Christmas is a family time, but not this year. Lights may twinkle, bells may chime but no-one’s here. No clinking glasses, laughing voices carolling in rhyme. No Christmas cheer. It’s not enough to celebrate a birth; the festive season sells. But this year, inns have little cause … Continue reading Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
God rest ye merry, gentlefolk,
'Two o'clock and all's well.' a shivering warchman rings his bell.
Twas the night before Christmas, when Santa's new elf in the vast, silent workshop sat all by herself
While one hand holds the paper, t'other's groping for the tape. Her goodwill fades as sticky tape escapes her lurches. She lets go the gift, to travel to the tape that caused the hassle and the perfect wrap unravels. Curses! Christmas present trapping while the other side’s unwrapping and the tape is strapping fingers to … Continue reading Christmas Wrapping
The challenge was to write blank verse: not something I really understand, but - hey, I joined this challenge to learn, didn't I? My poems scan, their lines carefully rhymed and of a length, with syllables aligned. Its beats are bars in a melody’s score. Its rules are like bars of a cage. If words … Continue reading But is it poetry?
The prompt for this one was 'Why?' Photo by David Geib on Pexels.com We’re buzzing in the autumn air. Not many people out. Oldies have gone home to bed but clubbers still about. Why hang around? Let’s go uptown and make our mark tonight. Hoods up. We’ll stalk the paths we know and have ourselves … Continue reading Boredom
The confidence of youth.