One prompt for 12 poems in 12 months earlier this year was Ekphrastic. No I didn't know what it meant either until I looked it up. The Christmas Crackerby W H Tweed (1840-1899) Apparently it means talking about stuff to do with art. My poem is below. It started as blank verse but kind of … Continue reading Ekphrastic
(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
The confidence of youth.
revisiting puppy training
It’s too hot for thinking up blog posts. Summer is for reading… on the beach. Well, maybe not the beach – not this year anyway. This year our motorhome trips have given way to hospital appointments as my husband awaits a major operation. We daren’t stray for too long in case another appointment arrives, requiring … Continue reading Roome Bay