It’s Thursday and time for my new writing challenge. Your three options are:
Option one: Write a limerick with the word TRUMPET in it somewhere
Option two: Write a poem on the theme of COLOUR
Option three: Write a ten-word story using all of the following words: PIZZAZZ, GODFREY, TWITTER and BAFFLED
Last week option one was to write a limerick with the word ELEPHANT featuring in it somewhere. Here are the brilliant results:
Keith Channing couldn’t resist and I’m so glad he couldn’t:
A pachyderm down at the zoo
(That’s an elephant to me and you)
Found a little brown mouse
At the back of its house
And now it’s pach’d off – toodle-oo.
“So who’s got the biggest of ears,”
Asked a couple of wizened old dears
“An elephant’s large
But my husband’s drill sarge
Had to trim his with gardening shears.”
I had purposed my sorrows to drown
When the circus came into our town
I wound up as high
As an elephant’s eye
And woke up in the pond, upside down.
An unfortunate young man named Roger
Had an elephant’s trunk for a todger
His wife, over dinner
Said, “If it were thinner,
I could use it at work as a bodger.”
Sarah Evans composed a witty one:
An elephant from Timbuctoo,
Could play the Didgeridoo,
Whilst playing one night,
He started a fight,
And caused so much hullabaloo.
Graeme Sandford‘s first one actually ticks the box for next week’s already!:
Elephants are big and they’re grey
The Lord deemed to make them that way
(All, apart from Elmer, who’s a patchwork of hues)
They have trunks that are long
Through which they trumpet a song
But, if we’re not careful, they’ll all fade away.
Elephant? Do you remember the time…
When ‘you’ were not in this rhyme?
It was only just now
Before we knew how
This content could be so sublime.
Fiona hasn’t done anything like this before and her first attempt is fab:
I went to see the elephant
And found him mighty elegant
It’s his birthday, said Sam
He’s been having some jam
I thought, that’s a bit decadent?
Please go to Jane Basil‘s blog for her super funny limerick:
https://janebasilblog.wordpress.com/2016/02/04/pants/
David Harrison is my final limerick writer and he finishes with a belter:
Option two from last week was to write a poem on the theme of love, just in time for Valentine’s Day:
Geoff Le Pard shares his love poem based on one of Shakespeare’s famous love sonnets. Sit back and enjoy:
Only skin deep (after Sonnet 130)
The azure of the wide Pacific seas
Has depth, unlike your bland insipid eyes.
A dancer’s legs are shaped by art to please
But yours are not for show, they need disguise.
My tongue, whose form can change to suit all tastes,
From gentle probe to pert, priapic beast,
Becomes a dry and flaccid thing, all chaste,
If suffocated by your doggy breath’s release.
Facial engineers, who can craft Kate Moss
From Quasimodo, turn and run a mile:
I’d give my soul to Satan, bear any loss
If they’d mould Venus from your Cubist smile.
Let’s face it, love, on me you’ve placed a hex:
It’s not your looks that bind us, just the sex.
Steve Walsky has written a gorgeous haiku:
Look Towards the Horizon
Nature’s child feels dreams
As stars shine away darkness
Love dreams fill the sky
Graeme Sandford delights with two love poems:
A poem about love
With help from above
For, when push comes to shove,
We hope it will fit us like a glove
Or two gloves
Gloves are wonderful things
Love is a wonderful thing
‘It’ makes my heart sing
Ding-a-ling-a-ling
‘They’ keep my hands warm
If it’s cold, or in a storm.
Love is found in gloves
Just take away my initials
And there it is.
(G)love(S)
–
“A ‘poem’?”
“Yes.”
“Upon the theme of ‘love’?”
“Guess so.”
“Good Lord above!”
“Language, Graeme.”
“Sorry, but I am like a dove.”
“You are?”
“I am. It’s a simile, you see.”
“Yes, that much is clear to me.”
“And my wings (if I had them)
Would like to take flight.”
“Ah! Are you a dove…
Or do you just have dove’s wings?”
“I am a dove. Or I would be.”
“Good. Because you, with dove’s wings, just wouldn’t take flight.”
“I might.”
“No, trust me on this one
It is on reality founded
That you
With the wings of a dove
Would be totally grounded.”
“Not flying above?”
“Not a chance.”
“Oh! In that case
A dove is no loss,
I shall be like an albatross!”
“O-kay. If you like.”
“Upon… a bike!”
“Oh, I give up.”
G:)
Jason Moody’s is simple but beautiful:
If I hand you my heart,
Will you please take good care?
If this you can do,
Then my life you’ll share.
Bharul Chhatbar brings the love poems to a wonderful end:
Option three was to write a ten-word story using all of the following words: Syzygy, Rupert, fish and plastic. I love all your entries:
David Harrison’s made me laugh out loud:
Rupert’s plastic fish laughed at his trousers. “Syzygy? Oh behave!”
Sacha Black‘s is deliciously dark:
Plastic suffocated Rupert the fish. His last view, the Syzygy.
Helen Jones‘ story is delightfully amusing:
‘It’s a syzygy.’
‘No, it’s a plastic fish, Rupert.’
‘Really?’
Rajiv joined in with an hilarious story:
“Rupert Syzgy – strange name, strange man, ate plastic fish everyday.”
Jason Moody’s raises a laugh:
“Cosmic syzygy,” proclaimed Rupert. His plastic fork useless on fish.
And now here comes Graeme Sandford with his entertaining story:
“Syzygy?”
“Yes, Trombonia?”
“Rupert, plastic fish, you; all opposed!”
“Absolutely!”
***
Esther Chilton 
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