Showing posts with label Writing Companion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writing Companion. Show all posts

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Snowbird Mania

This is inspired by a promt at Writing Companion "are we there yet". It seems that some of us long to be "there" yet won't admit it when we arrive. Here it is:



It is here now
but not there yet
as the bulbs
begin to bloom
.
As coldness fades
to warmer days
and sunshine
replaces the gloom
.
Deep in the south
spring has arrived
yet the northerner
still wears his coat
.
In this respect
they can't claim tops
so I guess
it's our time to gloat
.
These are the days
they pile in cars
and head
this way yet they fret
.
They'll spend a week
declaring we're slow
not admitting their words
"are we there yet"?

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Pea and the Princess

Writing Prompt 8 - Re-Write a fairy tale - below is my attempt at this last assignment - I had fun with it!


This isn't the first time "Queenie" has had some damsel lay on top of me all night and it's starting to grate on me; you know?

They tell the story that her son was trying to find a true Princess and every time he thought he had found her, or if she had proclaimed to be a princess he would later discover that there was something about her that proved that she was no princess at all. Like the one who had the bunion, or the one that had that little mole behind her left ear; to him they weren't good enough. I could almost swear that I heard cook telling someone that the Queen was no more than a peasant before she married the King but I guess today you have to start royal to be royal; and I imagine they think royal means perfection, who the heck knows.

I can remember when my only worry was whether or not the day was dreary outside and if cook would get a bug in her to make porridge. Yeah sure, drying out toughened you but just a few short minutes in boiling water makes you all mushy and pale; not really the way I envisioned going; get my drift? Anyway, back to their royal highnesses. When I was first selected by cook and given to the Queen I had no idea what was next; you know?

How the Queen came up with this idea of using me as her "detective" still eludes me but I have to tell you, when I first was laid on a down mattress and sandwiched there for the night I thought it was way cool; a lot better than being all squashed in that keg where the population seemed like in the thousands. Anyway, the written story isn't exactly how it went though, the way they tell it, they only used me once for this mattress thing but I know better. See, when the Prince was off for days looking for his Princess, his mother was constantly dragging in maidens to check for their princess qualities; yeah constantly, I'm talking almost daily.

I lost count of the number of nights I was smothered and crushed by some of those fat ones. I don't know how you feel, but why would she have even picked some of those lasses? Well, that's besides the point, aint gonna be my princess I always used to think. Anyway, after that last drippy one who supposedly got all black and blue from laying on top of me was proclaimed a true princess I couldn't have been happier...until it dawned on me...cauldron here I come!

When they decided to put me on that shelf in the big glass case I thought I had died and gone to pea heaven. Now all I have to worry about is when maid dusts. Most times it's okay but the time when I went rolling across the floor and almost wound up as the flattened occupant of the new Princess' shoe, that was a scary time indeed; good thing she's so petite or she would have surely crushed me that day. See, from that day on I knew I had served a real purpose, because I think I really found them a Princess cause she couldn't even squash a pea.

Wasn't this a lady of real delicacy?

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Stayin' alive

This was a prompt from Writing Companion where you are asked to write something using a song title as your title. I chose to use one of the songs that were supplied.

Inspired by the title - Stayin' Alive - The Bee Gees


Hanging from the wall of life
nails dug deeply in
cringing as you feel each grain
bouncing off your chin
.
Trying to remain aloft
kicking with your feet
wondering what it would be like
underneath a sheet
.
In your head just dangling there
death you do contrive
you fight so hard to let go
why do you stay alive?