Tag Archives: NaPoWriMo

April Won #NaPoWriMo

April started off slowly,

the others seemed so fast;

by the time they’d reached the bend,

April was running at last.


She took the time to warm up,

wore all the right gear for the track;

and that’s our little April,

the one in the lead at the back.


Slowly she made her progress

like a pilgrim who seeks for the truth,

but without the knowledge of age,

and with all the folly of youth.


By the ring of the bell she was level,

with crowd sounds in her ears she was moved;

her legs kept propelling her faster,

but would it be enough?

That was yet to be proved.


At the tape they stopped for a photo,

it was far too close to call;

who would the winner end up to be,

and who’d get to sing ‘Wonderwall’?


April won by the smallest of margins,

a tenth of a tenth of a second,

and she stood in the Gold medal position,

well deserved was what everyone reckoned.


April won, she had trained for so long

and gained reward in the race,

and Oasis was sung for her song,

she had such a huge smile on her face.

The Last Day of April

The Last Day of April

Like the first,

the last day of April

is a curious one.

They both bookend all the other days,

yet one is welcoming them,

whilst the other bids them a find ‘adieu!’

You, may not realise

that April held such a surprise

as it did –

it may have been carefully hid.

Or it might have been a month

of no newsworthy events at all –


Call it what you will (still ‘April’ methinks)

April has been one that we will remember

long after…


has gone.

April The Twenty-Eighth

April The Twenty-Eighth

April The Twenty-Eighth

has been a day.

too far.

We drove in the car;

stopped off at a bar;

listened to Eleventh Earl of Mar

(by Genesis);

invented Radar (again);

travelled much too far;

drank a pint of cider vinegar from a jam jar;

boxed up some shopping in a Spar(

relayed our local road surface

in two-dimensional tar;

relocated to Zanzibar;

and then walked back to England

for a cup of char.

So, nothing out of the unusual.

April The Twenty-Seventh

April The Twenty-Seventh

April the Twenty-Seventh

arrived with a fanfare (or funfair)

of trumpets;

followed by tea and crumpets;

and, lastly, a soupçon of something sweet – just to keep it neat.

April The Twenty-Sixth

April The Twenty-Sixth

A day when chimneys weep,

and town criers cry;

when the cost of ascending mountain paths is particularly steep,

and a rugby ball can but try.

A day when swallows swallow swiftly,

and a toad will natter to a Jack of all trades;

when a bright colour fades,

and beige is just the study of brown.

A day that begins and ends,

with bits in the middle,

hey diddle diddle don’t play upon that violin;

beguine the piece from where you left off,

and, ‘soft, what light through yonder window breaks – it is Juliet’,

and, soon, she is the Moon.

April The Twenty-Fifth

April The Twenty-Fifth

April The Twenty-Fifth

A dull day,

then a bright day;

with both accompanied by a fresh breeze;

fresh enough to freeze

the bones from a dull man,

or a bright one.

Every day is like this,

or unlike this.

Differing in various ways,

it’s a daze.

April The Twenty-Fifth

a day just like the rest,

now, where did I put my old string vest?

April The Twenty-Fourth – A Travel Guide

April The Twenty-Fourth – A Travel Guide

April The Twenty-Fourth

“Set forth!”

And so we did.

With no idea where to.

we went North – wrong;

South, East, West;

all were the same,

none were the best;

so we tried all the points of the compass in-between;

directions we had;

you should have seen us,

lost at the scene of the crime;

four idiots in search of a rhyme.

April the Twenty-Fourth,

was not the day for us to set forth,

it showed us our worth,

as we trudged the earth;

at least we still had our mirth.

April The Twenty-Third

April The Twenty-Third

April The Twenty-Third:

Shakespeare was born;

Shakespeare died;

people laughed,

people cried;

some came in,

others went outside;

many went to seek,

whilst a few did hide;

Haven’t you heard

that April Twenty-Third

is, was, and shall be…

or not –

depending on how you look at things.

April The Twenty-Second

April The Twenty-Second

The 22nd day of April –

I knew there would be a catch,

there is always a catch:

catch, match, hatch, dispatch:

a batch of rhyming things – how weird;

but, then again, quite the norm.

although I don’t have to inform


I am in form.

Formed from the clay of prehistoric pre-hysteric swamps,

I am only just a man

who can

(when the mood takes him)

rhyme a frying pan

with a partisan.

Then again, most people can

do that –

it’s just that they choose not to.

April The Twenty-First

April The Twenty-First

It has often been said

(and sometimes in bed)

that the twenty-first day of April is a sham,

“It doesn’t exist!” Is heard;

and many other a disparaging word,

along the lines of: ‘Chimera’ ‘illusion’ ‘mirage’,

that is not to say that there aren’t believers,

people who adamantly insist that April The Twenty-First

is a day –

not the best day, nor the worst,

but a day, never the less.

“Yes?” is often stated at this,

“And what makes all you believers correct?

I suspect that you have been influenced by common opinion,

and are just a calendar minion,

who believes everything that they read there.

Take care, one day you may wake up and find the truth: April The Twenty-First is a curse of youth – or old age (as the adage goes).

And, when it snows on April the Twenty-First

fear the worst:

It may be May,

or a cold December’s day.

What does anybody know about anything, anyway?