Monthly Archives: April 2018

4-Word Challenge

claustrophobia

words fail someone

bloviate

porphyrogenite, n.

I am, at this present time, hidden within this tiny box – even though the claustrophobia it is causing is my worst nightmare and my heart is pounding at the confinement – trying desperately to write an answer to the ransom note that I have only just recently received, second-class post, ostensibly from a rather roguish rake dressed in the porphyogenite shade of purple of the old royal families that, sadly, are: no longer with us; present here today; still existing in notable circles; able to attend the current occasion; do not, now, have the willpower to get out of the house once in a while; be contenders; and finally, but not least of all; wear crowns and tiaras to parties and balls- and yet, though I can bloviate like a master, I have written not a word, and can think of nothing at all that can be put down on paper; be it ever so short or simple – which, ironically, is what I… oh, words here do fail me!

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“As a poet…”

As a poet…

I would just like to think

that that was how you saw me;

amongst all the other things that I am.

As a poet…

I perceive that my words,

Which are drawn screaming from me,

do have some little meaning to you.

As a poet…

I know that you shut down

When I have poetry “voice”

and you focus upon your navel.

As a poet…

I do hate the trite phrase

‘As a poet…’ it riles me,

and I do not see myself as one.

As me…

I write poetry,

for me;

but, you can read it,

if you like,

for free.

Myrtle the Turtle

Myrtle the Turtle

has never worn a kirtle,

in fact, she doesn’t

actually know what one is.

She thought that it may have been something

with which you stir porrige;

but, that is a spurtle,

and you can’t wear one of those,

unless just for decoration.

A Four-Word Challenge.

Task:

Create a sentence using: ailurophobia, tit for tat, embarrass, psykter

Attempt:

‘My worst fears were realised when, not only did the next door’s cat get into the house, through an open window – triggering my ailurophobia – but it then climbed on to the mantelpiece and dislodged my Ancient Greek Psykter pot – which fell onto the hearth and broke into a million pieces – before I managed to embarrass myself totally by running naked into the garden – I had just come out of the shower – and screaming at the Londoners next door “Will you get your tit-for-tat out of my house!” ‘

Response: How did I do?

Prompt: April

LWG Prompt ‘April’ for 17/04/2018

After Winter had finally released its hold on the year, there came the flourishing of a notable Spring.

April, May, and then June had arrived within about twenty minutes of each other; they were the fourth, fifth and sixth children to be born to the ever expanding Calendar family. All the preceding children had been boys, so Linda Calendar was extremely pleased that she had at last given birth to a daughter, or three as the case was, with which to balance the previously male-dominant family. Callum Calendar would have liked the new arrivals to have been further boys; but, he loved his wife and perhaps having three girls at once would finally sate her need for more children, now that she had gained the elusive daughter.

Luckily for the Calendars, they lived in a very old and rambling, medium-sized, early Tudor mansion that had been handed down largely intact through the generations – the family, now numbering eight, still managed to rattle around the parts of Calendar Manor that were still habitable.

Although the girls were triplets they weren’t identical, and they grew up with their own individual personalities and distinctive characters.

April was all that the oldest girl amongst the siblings could be; a leader, who bossed her elder brothers, as well as her younger sisters, into being active and industrious. This made her father love April the best of his three daughters, though, in fairness, he did try to be impartial and equal-handed to all of his offspring.

May was dismayed at not having been born the eldest, often querying if who had actually crossed the birthing finishing line first was in fact correct; but, she loved her parents, her brothers, and her younger sister, June, precisely for June’s position of being the youngest.

June was loved by everybody. She was kind, meek and mild – not a threat to anybody or anything; and, as such, she was considered worthy of respect and not a little favouritism amongst the boys.

As for the boys, they soon grew to schooling age, and were packed away for long periods of time to the Henry Greatorex Boarding School for Young Gentlemen, a few counties distant; and, when they did return for the various holidays, the weeks flew by for them in a flurry of active sporting pursuits, which the three girls avoided if at all possible – April and May disliking anything to do with ‘boyish’ games, and June, because she was considered too young by a few minutes or so, was not readily welcomed into the rough and tumble of the thrill of the chase.

The girls sought their own adventures.

April liked hide and seek, always with her doing the hiding and the others, usually just her sisters, doing the seeking.

It was often the case that April was intentionally ‘not found’ for long stretches of time, even when she chose easy places to discover. May and June would walk around the house and gardens calling April’s name, with little interest in actually finding her – for that signalled that the whole dismal process would inevitably have to start all over again.

That was, until one day, when April found a really great place to hide – she didn’t know it, but it was an old Priest’s Hole from the time of Elizabeth the First.

April had only found it by chance when she had tried to hide in the recess to the side of their massive fireplace. The hidden door swung open and in popped April, quietly pulling the door to behind her.

That was her error.

With no one knowing of the existence of the Priest’s Hole, nor of April having gone there…

The opening of the door from the inside was beyond her skill, and April tore her finger-nails desperately trying to get it to release her.

In the dark and eerie silence of the enclosed space, April could only shout out until her voice could not shout out any longer.

It doesn’t take too long to die when you have nothing to eat, and it’s much quicker if you have no water.

Whichever way, it isn’t a pleasant way to go.

April passed.

May become the eldest daughter, somewhat to her quiet delight.

And June followed May, missing April, and always keeping a look out for her arrival when the Spring came, quietly calling April’s name as she sadly walked about the house and gardens.

April XVII

April the Seventeenth.

Or, as it was soon to be written on her coins, Regius Aprille XVII.

Queen April liked the shiny money, even though she was too young to be allowed to actually buy things. Her finances were arranged by her treasurer – a sour old bagpuss – and her court supplied for all her needs by the simple fact that that was what it did.

Queen April was four years old. She followed a long line of Queen Aprils, although the last one, Queen April the Sixteenth, had died over a century ago.

Until last week, her father, King Tuesday the Tenth, had been the proud ruler of the land they liked to call Pantalon; but, kings tend to die all too suddenly when they are poisoned. This had left the next in line to the throne of Pantalon, his daughter, a four-year old girl called April.

The poisoner of the old king was quite self-assured that April was going to be a puppet monarch totally under his control.

Little did he know that the child April was to become April the Glorious, cleansing the snakes from the court, and banishing evil from the land of Pantalon.

April was looking out of the throne room window, it had started to rain.

And, now, so would she.

A Silly Song (please feel free to add your own chord structure).

A Silly Song

I’ve got this feeling

That you’re climbing on my ceiling

Wearing something that is much too revealing

And I’ve got a potato…

That needs peeling

(And that ain’t no euphemism!)