Back to Basics – dVerse Form for All

img_1073

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!

Fun guy – TJ’s Household Haiku Challenge

VC104675l

mushroom box hiding

in the dark airing cupboard

white orbs float in space

 

caps like velvet hats

silky texture makes me smile

squeak as I bite you


 

This week, the gorgeous TJ has invited us to waxy lyrical, Haiku style, on mushrooms. I really, really, really like mushrooms. I like them so much, I eat them raw – which many of my friends and acquaintances think is a little odd! Is it really?

Anyway, here’s my weekly offering. There always seemed to be a mushroom box on the go in our airing cupboard when I was growing up and I loved peeking into the gloom to spot the first white globes peeking through the inky black compost.

I hope you take the time to hop on over to TJ’s blog and read all the tasty poetry – and take part if you feel the urge!

haiku-hub-badge-large (1)

 

 

 

The sound of your day

DSC_0010

What does your day sound like?
The groan that escapes through a mildly bitten lip as you haul your carcass out of bed.
The muted shuffle of slippers on laminate floor and the rasp of terry towelling against skin as you multi-task your way to the bathroom.
The squeak of naked foot against the bath as you slip into the shower – quite literally.
A sigh this time as the soft, warm water- needles pummel your skin,
and the voice of your thoughts, your thoughts, your need to stay just there, just there forever
(or at least for as long as the hot water lasts).
But it’s a work-day, or a shopping-day, or a car-washing-day, or a take-the-kids-to-the movies day
and you have to desert your naked haven and get-damn-dressed.
One day, you promise yourself,
your day will sound like ripe cherries squeaking against your teeth as you bite into their shiny skin and the juice runs down your chin.
One day, your day will sound like your daughter’s gleeful chuckle when she found the Easter eggs hiding in the crook of the branches of the old plum tree.

One day, you promise yourself, your day will taste of freedom.


 

On my way home, I was listening to an interview on the Radio 4 Woman’s Hour podcast, with Felicity Ford who is a sonic artist (and knitter). She was talking about a project she engaged on to encapsulate the knitting history of the women of the Shetland Islands. This made me think about what a day would sound like (and then I I slipped into taste).

Can anyone identify with my poem?