Half and Half News

Kind Miz Quickly has been giving us wonderful prompts all through the grind of Napowrimo.  Today’s is a cracker:  Write something that’s half-and-half, in-between, two-tone, or not quite what it seems.

My mind went immediately to those horrible shoes so fashionable in pre-war films.

 image via Wikipedia - correspondent shoes, also known as 

Spectator Shoes

Half and half news
adultery shoes
brown and white -
what a sight.

If I were to sin
it wouldn’t be in
correspondent shoes ~
too conspicuous, right?


Posted in humour, rhyming poetry, short poetry | Tagged | 8 Comments

Napo Day 15 – it gets worse

Down Beneath The Roots of Things
This list of words has been nagging at me since the first day Elizabeth posted them, so I decided to knock them on the head once and for all. 

No Thanks

Reincarnation is a great idea
so long as I can choose
the form and age and era.
Anything would be better
than being Joan of Arc at Rouen,
her life devoid of hope.

To be a gardener could be pleasant,
with an interest in rare plants,
and a boy to deal with the weeds
I’d wear flannel in the winter
and rub my back with jelly
to defend against lumbago.
Oh – a bad back – a  frisson
of fear ripples through me.

No, I think I’ll change my mind,
I won’t come back at all.

 She also asked some questions, to which my answers were succinct:

1. Can you define, describe the meaning of one of the words, by using some of the others?   NO.
2. How can you celebrate the sound of these words. READ THEM ALOUD
3. What would a ripple affect read like?  A GRAMMATICAL ERROR

Posted in free verse, humour, really bad poem, wordles | 8 Comments

Triversen for Napo day 14

Miz Quickly suggested we write a triversen for day 14, a quixotic form which I couldn ‘t take seriously:-

Each stanza equals one sentence.
Each sentence/stanza breaks into 3 lines (each line is a separate phrase in the sentence).
There is a variable foot of 2-4 beats per line.
The poem as a whole should add up to 18 lines (or 6 stanzas).


For day fourteen
we should be writing sonnets
with exactly fourteen lines.

Why are folk afraid of sonnets,
when they’re so simple to do
in a variety of ways.

At the last count
I’ve written about forty
some good, some very bad.

Petrarch set the form
but Shakespeare
re-defined it.

There’s Miltonian, Byronic,
Clarean, Australian,
or even  Supersonic.

That’s a joke
by the way -
I can’t write that fast.

Posted in formal poetry, formal poetry, humour, nonsense poems, really bad poetry | Tagged , , , | 5 Comments

Secrets and Lies

I will never tell you what I know
about why or how curiosity killed the cat
My lips are sealed tight shut so
you’ll never discover
the secret of how my mother
laid poison disguised as a mouse.
The cat wasn’t about
to look  gift-horse in mouth
so squeezed eyes to a slit
and pounced upon it,
looking  round for admiring applause
before turning up his paws.
And if you believe that, you’ll believe anything.


Miz Quickly’s Day 13 prompt, (which requires us to spill the beans in 13 lines posted  day 14  - I’m superstitious)

Posted in nonsense poems, really bad poem, rhyming poetry | 3 Comments

KuneKune Haiga

Picture stolen from Celie’s Blog, of Timatanga Moana, a KuneKune piglet, watched in plaintive manner by Marmie.matanga Moana matanga Moanakunekune Tima and Marmie r haiga

Posted in haiga, pictures | Tagged | 4 Comments

Instant Romance – Wordle 166, Napo Day 13

I swear the gaudy girl tumbled
briefly, deeply in love with him
that moonlit night in May.
I love you, I love you, I love you she chanted,
her porcelain wrists wrapped around his head
as they limbo-danced  under the post.
But passion turns sour by daylight.
Such instant love could not endure.
He served  separation papers
before the moon could rise once more.

For Brenda’s Sunday Whirl

Posted in really bad poem, wordles | 15 Comments


Chain in the making, poems galore

To combat boredom, Jock is carving another chain from a three-metre length of beech wood.  Every now and then he comes in from the garage to say he’s given birth to another link.  He brings in sawdust and shavings on his feet as proof!

Poems for National Poetry Writing Month are trickling out, but nothing of quality, so it was cheering last week to have a short poem chosen as Poem of the Month by Second Light – you can read it here  The judge, Hylda Sims said flattering things about the poem.

I’ve also been putting together collections for submission, (one of them a group of 20 sonnets), written three new poems for a project on how we feel about higher education, and and and – it’s been a busy week.

You can read what other six worders have been doing here

Posted in life writing | Tagged | 19 Comments

Napo Day 12, Desperation sets in

In the spirit of Napo, here’s a little one:

Spring Morning

I wake to a white world
and wonder why  mist
hides the apple blossom.

Elizabeth Crawford’s word selection inspired  yesterday’s post  but as I only used half of them, the void is filled with this.

With prompts coming at me from all sides
I can’t find one I like.
Depression threatens.
I don’t want to force it
or smudge the issue -
it could lead to blood,
with bricks being thrown.
I used half the words yesterday
now the rest have gone, I’m off.

It’s not that no poetry was written in this house during the last couple of days:  three new longish poems were written for submission.   

Posted in really bad poem, short poetry | 6 Comments

Courtship for Napo day 11


A voice from behind asked
Will you…will you come out with me?
I’ve tickets for Louis Armstrong next week,
Oh please do come with me.

The words were almost whispered -
Who is he talking to?
Don’t turn round, I thought,
He’s talking to someone else.


Then he said it again.
I hear the desperation,
force a quick look round to find
His  shining eyes are centered
on  my head.

OK, yes please

A true story – that’s how I met my first husband, in the queue for a canteen lunch at work.  My best friend was beside me and I was convinced he was talking to her.

1-12 The True Story
 For this poem, I used a few of the words posted by Elizabeth Crawford

Posted in short poetry, story poems | Tagged , | 6 Comments


We write Poems is delving into mythology today.  As a child I revelled in the tales of the Greek and Roman heroes in Arthur Mee’s children’s encyclopaedia.  But life has changed my views, especially during the last ten years or so.  I’ve learned to avoid watching news of conflicts – anger, stress and grief are too harrowing, too debilitating.  So my poem is a tiny attempt to debunk a myth.

It’s a masculine myth
that fighting rights wrongs.
They write songs,
tell stories,
talk of glory.
But they’re wrong:
war brings misery to most
while enriching the few.

Posted in politics, re-blogs, rhyming poetry, short poetry | Tagged , | 9 Comments

Rite of Spring 2


spring ball, tractor oosh picture????

We were eating our tea on Monday when the sound of machinery outside drew our attention.  There were five monster tractors and trailers gathering around the heap of manure that has been waiting patiently for weeks, 50 yards from our sitting room windows.  The poem fought to get out.  

A covey of trailered tractors
converge around the heap of oosh,
pow wow, divide the labour,
to share the dance,  with teamwork
fit for a world cup match.

Solo artist, yellow, drops scoop
to snatch a load too heavy,
so the back lifts off the ground
in graceful headstand
before disgorging into a spreader

Partnerships establshed,
each trailer dips as it fills,
sets off to find a space
to perform the graceful ritual.
Arcs of precious nourishment
flow out in  rainbows.

To and fro in turn
each trailer-load flies out behind.
The formal movement finishes
as the heap of oosh diminishes.
The grateful earth
receives the aromatic manna,
ready for the seed.

Yesterday the sunniest, warmest day of spring, I washed some quilts and spread them in the garden to dry.  Calamity: a tractor was back and the earth was limed, with air full of dust, so quilts were bundled in again.  The next to arrive was the slurry tanker with outspread arms, to complete the process.   Bit niffy, that one.  

Today one solitary folorn tractor is harrowing the huge field


Soon it will be seeded, and before we can say growth, tall waving corn will cut off our lovely view of trees and meadows.

.Napowrimo Day 10

Posted in free verse, life writing, pictures | Tagged , | 4 Comments



So many homes we’ve lived in and left
and the treasures departed with them,
the gardens, lovingly created, left behind to flourish or not.
Folk no longer have places to stash the not-strictly-useful.
What some call bibelots others call trash.
One or two relics have stayed the course -
Gran’s great colander moves everywhere with us,
finds a spot in the saucepan cupboard to settle.
Mum’s sugar thermometer is still in use,
helping jam and marmalade to  set.

A collection of oriental china nags at my conscience;
there are boxes of treasures taped closed
for so long that I can’t remember the contents -
Those who come after me can deal with those.


dVerse Poetics is looking for Treasure, and you’ll find lots of valuable stuff there!
The Napo prompt for Day 8 is to re-write a famous poem.  I often do this kind of pastiche exercise, and you will find a Springlike Daffodilian poem here.

Posted in free verse, life writing, prose poem, sonnet | 16 Comments

Write of Spring

Each day I monitor
the season’s growing progress -
magnolia petals have fallen
just as cherry blossom emerges.
On my daily walk I’m glad to see
how many trees are showing green,
the violets are nearly done
as common spotted orchids dream
of standing proudly, flowering.
To see a skip in my clumsy step,
you should use your imagination-
I could not spring to save my life,
yet Spring is full of fascination.

for Napowrimo Day 8, to Miz Quickly’s prompt

Posted in rhyming poetry, short poetry | Tagged | 8 Comments



Democritus, he say
the world is change;
life is opinion.
In my eyes,
life is so full of pain
for many
that I’d like to re-arrange
it to make it fairer.

Miz Quickly gave us some sayings of philosophers as inspiration for our day 6 poem.

The path up and down is one and the same.__Heraclitus
Nature likes to hide itself.__Heraclitus
The world is change; life is opinion.__Democritus
All things were together. Then mind came and arranged them.__Anaxagoras
Worlds are altered rather than destroyed.__Democritus
Heraclitus said that a man’s character is his fate.__Stabaeus

 I didn’t really find them that gripping, but at least I’m still Napo-ing.

Posted in rhyming poetry, short poetry | Tagged | 1 Comment

On a Clear Day


I will do the washing,
all the big things,
hang them on the line.
Drying in the garage
has been the norm this winter
but today, out on the line
quilts will be flying,
efficiently drying
in the fresh Spring breeze.


Inspired by Elizabeth Crawfordls word list, asking for a poem from a song title.  We have nowhere to put a line here, but I reckon when I wash the quilts I will peg them to the fence, so that passing traffic can have a patchwork show!

Posted in Poems | 8 Comments