A Nessy Moment (Nessy the Totnes Monster)

A Nessy Moment (Nessy the Totnes Monster)

‘She trumped down the high street-‘

(I think you’ll find it’s called ‘Fore Street’)

Oh, right. Thanks.

(And I ‘trumpeted’, I didn’t ‘trump’, that wouldn’t be very dignified, would it?)

No. I suppose not.

‘She trumpeted down the Fore Street,

heralding her path.’

(I like that, ‘heralding my path’ very nice)

Thanks, again.

‘Her fiery breath before her,

daring folk to laugh.’

(Not the best rhyme ever)

I know, but it’s not easy getting a rhyme to fit

when a dragon is being hypercritical over it.

(Better – pray, continue)

Right. Now, where was I?

(‘Fiery breath before her’)

Oh, yes.

‘Her fiery breath before her

clearing people from her path.’

(you’ve changed it)

I have.

(And put in ‘Path’ to rhyme with… ‘Path’)


(A perfect rhyme – be it the same word)

Yes. Shall I continue?

(Please do, I am all ears – and, don’t even think of making a joke there, Sonny)

The thought of… no, I shalln’t.

(You’re learning)

Right. Now, where was I?

(‘Clearing people from my path’)

That’s it.

‘Clearing people from her path;

her hackles were up-‘

(My what?)

Hackles. Isn’t that the word?

(Look it up in a dictionary if you are not sure

incorrect word usage can be such a bore)

But of a poet yourself!

(Many talons, many talents).

Mmmmm. Hackles, Heckles, Hockles? It is ‘hackles.’

(I know, but every writer should check their words – just to make sure, if you know what I mean – and, yes, my hackles ‘were’ up. I was livid)

Thanks for that.

(Have you a rhyme for ‘up’?)

Yes, it’s ‘shut!’

(How touchy you are)

Well, being interrupted all the time is not helping the flow of this… this…



(It seems to be ‘my’ life story. You are writing it. Therefore, ‘biography’)

Oh, who’s a smart monster?

(Need I answer rhetorical questions – no, don’t answer that, your head might explode with the thinking of a witty riposte)

Haven’t you got a village to terrorise?

(Now there’s a thought. I shall see you later)

Nessy departs in the direction of Dartingtown.

Right, where was I? Oops! Talking to myself again.


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