Category Humour

Back to Basics – dVerse Form for All

freyathewriter 37 Comments

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Rabbie Burns fell upon his sword they say

But I knew he was pitchforking hay

Literally, I took their words

Because he had only wanted herbs.

 

Herbs to make his food more savoury

For he was sick of bread and gravy

But bread it is the staff of life

Saving the stomach from hungry strife

 

He had eschewed his wife’s basic meal

Then worked on the farm, his void purse to heal

He dropped down dead, empty and vague

All for his obsession with parsley and sage.

 

Oh, Form for All, how I enjoy you! Here’s my thought process.

“Dammit, it’s 8pm (here in the UK), I’ve not long got home from work, I’m tired, I just want to put my feet up… Noo! dVerse! Why do I have to work out how t write a new poetry form? Why isn’t it Open Link Night?… Hmm, I could have some fun with this… Oh! I have an idea…!”

Tonight over on dVerse, Gayle has invited us to write a Clerihew. As Gayle explains ‘A Clerihew is a comic verse on biographical topics consisting of two couplets and a specific rhyming scheme of aabb that was invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley (1875-1956) at the age of 16.’

I hope you enjoy my attempt – I have no idea where the story came from (not unusual, to be honest)!

Why not have a go yourself? It’s fun!

** Gayle kindly pointed out I forgot to include the name of a famous person in the first line of my poem… So I have used Rabbie Burns, the Scottish poet who was the son of a farmer. Thank you, Gayle!

Fishy Tale – Magpie Tales

freyathewriter 20 Comments

wyeth n c Dark Harbor Fisherman

Dark Harbor, 1943, N. C. Wyeth

“We have too much food here, Jacob. What are we supposed to do with it all? It wasn’t our plan to empty the sea of all its fish.”

“Nonsense, Simeon, nonsense! There is no such thing as too much fish! How ungrateful you are! Me and my men have risked life and limb on the mountainous waves to bring this fine haul home to harbour. Not a life lost, not a bruise nor a scrape did we sustain. Does it not cross your mind to utter one word of thanks?”

“But where is your common sense? All of our salt has been used for the preserving of meat and our barrels are taken with wine. We cannot consume the fish fast enough. It will be left to waste and rot by the quay.”

“You see problems where there are none, Simeon. I propose a feast – let us build a bonfire, barbecue the meat over the flames and wash it all down with copious gallons of wine. We will have empty barrels, spare salt and extremely happy villagers. A solution, do you not agree?”

“I suppose I do, Jacob. You are an ingenious man, so it seems…”

——

Here’s my latest entry to Magpie Tales – Jacob is a quick-thinking chap, no?

I hope you enjoy this week’s entry- and please do visit Magpie Tales for amazing poetry and prose!

 

magpie tales statue stamp 185

The Interpreter – Five Sentence Fiction

freyathewriter 12 Comments

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“So, where were you when this photo was taken, Granny?”

Marilyn wrestles with her conscience, but only for a moment – wrestling is so unfeminine after all.

“I was behind the camera!” she claims breezily, waving her perfectly painted nails in the air above the black and white photo.

Marilyn glances down at her granddaughter’s questioning face, but all she sees is the French maid outfit, the black satin sheets, the red silk scarf draped artfully over the bedside lampshade and the captain’s uniform lying at the foot of the bed.

“Oh, I was definitely in uniform too, darling girl, without a doubt!”