Diminishing Verse Challenge

Hello Poetry Lovers

We have a celebrity filled challenge today. First of all, we have a diminishing verse from the gorgeous and talented poet, Trisha Broomfield. Who goes head to head with Mrs Slagg and Dobby. What a lethal combination, and collaboration as the two of them composed their’s together. I didn’t think they could even be in the same room!

Anyway, Trisha, bless you for this. It’s wonderful. Read on….

The moon gives out a ghostly glow


The lights are dim, romantic, low


You stub you toe and mutter, ‘Ow’.

Excellent, Trisha. Well done, thank you. A great piece.

Now to the next explosive writer(s)

Okay, let’s have a clean slate

You’ve been tardy as of late

It must be that pie you ate

Weren’t they two whoppers?! Wonderful writing, the three of you. I think a draw is in order, and pies all round!

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back with more exciting poetry real soon……

Mrs Slagg’s Mini Class

Mrs Slagg, while impressed at Dobby’s diminishing verse, reckons she could go one better.

In fact, she’s written a couple. Read on;

Spat

Me and Mr Slagg had a spat

Over the new girl called Pat

He thinks she’s where it’s at

Stale Pie

Mr Slagg said my pie was stale

I gave him what for, a sorry tale

Now he’s gone out to drink ale

The Plate

Mr Slagg deliberately broke me best plate

He’s been so very stroppy as of late

I blame the dog bowl off which he ate

The New Girl

New girl Edna is full of charms

But it’s Mr Slagg who that harms

So I slapped him about on the arms

What do you think, PL’s? Do you think you could do a better one? With less violence? Please send them in, and risk Mrs Slagg’s wrath. Are you brave enough?

Send one in if you dare! thanks for tuning in, we’ll be back real soon

Diminishing Verse – a collaboration with Dobby…

Hello Poetry Lovers

Today we are going to do a diminishing verse. I have Dobby’s assistance in this – I think…

”Isn’t that right, Dobby?”

“Now Dobby, do not go back to sleep. Remember what we rehearsed. A diminishing verse is great fun. We take a word that can be stripped away – like …astray

So we use the word astray

What’s the next word, Dobby?

That’s right. Stray

And as Dobby says; the next word is tray.

So now we’ve prepared a poem, haven’t we, Dobby with these three words;

So, you really led me astray

When you took in that stray

Serving her fish on a tray

Needless to say, the last line is Dobby’s favourite. Wasn’t that fun? Do try one yourself but best not to ask Dobby to help.

Meanwhile this is Dobby getting her reward for co-operating with the mini-poetry workshop today.

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. Any ideas or poems for another diminishing verse, do send them in. Meanwhile, stay tuned for more poetry action real soon….

The One Minute Poem….

Hello Poetry Lovers

This week I was compelled to take on this one minute poem inspired by the lovely poet Sharron Green

What with 60 syllables, 3 stanzas of 4 lines and rhyming, it certainly was not the walkover I took it to be. And I’ve penned my favourite subject sugar.

Anyway, read on, the first line has to have 8 syllables;

Bread and Jam

I want bread and sugar to eat

Because it’s neat 

It tastes so sweet 

Down to my feet

I must have sugar in my tea 

It’s part of me

And who I am

Plus I like jam

 Will you get me some more red jam?

Who gives a damn?! 

Sticky and sweet

I feel replete 

H Moulson 2021

Wasn’t that a hoot?! Mrs Slagg likes it because it contains sugar – so how could I go wrong?! Any one minute poems most welcome, on any subject.

Thanks for tuning, PL’s. Stay tuned for more poetry action real soon

The Cat Triolet

Hello Poetry Lovers

Welcome back to our Triolet Corner.

Lovely and talented poet, Trisha Broomfield has given us this wonderful piece titled ‘The Cat’.

Beautifully done and right up mine and Mrs Slagg’s street. Trisha will be given a personal invitation from the lady herself to read this piece live at the Slagg’s Cafe. A great honour.

It’s an exquisite triolet, so read on ;

The Cat

The cat sits on my door mat

It must have its own home

It’s not thin, but not fat

The cat sits on my doormat

Maybe it has smelled a rat?

It looks at me, its eyes alone

The cat sits on my doormat

It must have its own home?

Trisha Broomfield 17/06/2021

Wasn’t that a terrific piece?! Thank you so much, Trisha. See you at the Slagg’s Cafe. There is an open invitation to send in your own triolets, PL’s.

Thanks for tuning in, be back with more antics real soon….

Toilet Triolet

Hello Poetry Lovers and welcome back to Mrs Slagg’s open mic.

Today, the lovely and clever poet Sharron Green has risen to the Triolet challenge laid down by Octavia (see last post) and has given us a wonderful Toilet Triolet piece. An exciting new school of poetry is emerging

Do read on;

A Toilet Triolet for Slagg’s Café

Please treat this loo with some respect 

Don’t leave it in a sorry state

Sometimes it falls into neglect 

Please treat this loo with some respect

Report each rodent or insect 

We know the plumbing’s not that great

Please treat this loo with some respect 

Don’t leave it in a sorry state 

Sharron Green 2021 rhymes_n_roses

Wasn’t that wonderful?! Thank you so much, Sharron. Such a talented and prolific poet. Keep them coming, PL’s.

Thanks for tuning in, Poetry Lovers. Stay tuned and we’ll be back real soon.

Open Mic at the Slagg’s Cafe

Well, Poetry Lovers

Another notorious open mic session is underway at our favourite cafe.

Get yourselves here, and put your name down for Mrs Slagg’s acclaim – or more likely, verbal abuse. I wouldn’t miss that for the world, especially the latter. People queue up for that sort of thing in here.

I am deeply shocked that second wife, Octavia from the ‘big house’ has delivered this cheeky triolet piece. This lady of blue-blooded stock, former landed-gentry and Roedean educated? Not to mention a regular church attendee – mind you, they’re the worst.

I would actually call this a Toilet piece, but read on and see what you think.

I never wear knickers to breakfast

I never wear underwear 

Until boiled eggs have been served 

Everyone else is unaware

I never wear underwear

But they’ll never see any pubic hair

That would be undeserved. 

I never wear underwear

Until boiled eggs have been served 

Octavia Amanda Ann 2021

Well, it looks like Octavia’s husband has slumped in shock! Can someone help him get up again?!

Can you deliver a triolet form, PL’s? It doesn’t have to be smutty like the lady of the houses’. Do send them in or put your name down to read. Dobby’s taking bookings now…

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. Sign up for Slagg’s Cafe open mic now……..!!!

Unhappy Hour at the Slagg’s Cafe

Hello Poetry Lovers

Welcome back to the Slagg’s Cafe. Do join us for Unhappy Hour.

My predictions came true and Mrs Slagg has penned a few forms of poetry.

I think it’s best we start off with the (very) loose Kyrielle form what she has wrote. Do read on;

Slagg’s Kyrielle

The Slagg’s Cafe is open for tea

An invitation from Mr Slagg and Me

and eat as much pie as you can see.

Where is the bloody sugar?!

Come in and put down those bags

you have to drink tea and smoke fags

we have a selection of last year’s mags

Where is the bloody sugar?!

Our chairs are comfy, the table’s round.

Have some pie, it’ll cost you a pound.

Sugar put in the tea, I love the sound

Where is the bloody sugar?!

T Slagg 2021

Wasn’t that a belter?! Well done, Mrs Slagg. Nice piece. Watch out for her Ghazal – or maybe Bop poem next time.

Do send in one of these forms yourself. All poems welcome.


Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. Come back real soon for more poetry antics……

Dobby on the Rampage

Hello Poetry Lovers

Today we hear Dobby’s side of things – again. She has written this ghazal piece – one of the tasks set by the fantastic Poetix university.

No doubt, Mrs Slagg will get on the case too, so watch out for her’s.

A ghazal is twelve stanzas of two verses, and the last line must end with the same word. Also the first stanza has to have the same word on each line, and the last stanza must mention the narrator/cat. Phew! I tell you what, just read it……

A Cat’s Ghazal

She won’t give me sardines or nothing! 

She who gives me everything, yet nothing! 

Sardines pictured on a shiny oval tin

Unopened while my bowl has nothing 

She says they’re bad for my tummy-wummy 

That I bring them back up till there’s nothing 

Ginger cat at number 47 gets them on tap

He licks his greasy chops but gives me nothing 

I write a deep poem about this betrayal 

But the reader understands nothing 

How could she be so brutal and cruel?!  

The Happy Shopper bag that brings nothing

I phoned the RSPCA and Protection League

But once I stated my case, they said nothing. 

Healthy food? Who and What is that?!  

A shiny coat that means nothing

I write an angry letter to the Times 

Editor is charmed but does nothing 

I claw the bedroom curtains and carpet 

She just chucks me out saying nothing. 

She’s making a sardine casserole 

I sit on it so she also has nothing. 

“There’s only sandwiches, dear.” She tells him,

“Dobby once again made sure we had nothing.”  

HM 2021

Well, I guess we now await Mrs Slagg’s.

Thank you for tuning in, PL’s. I hope you enjoyed that Monday morning entertainment/tail of woe (geddit?!).

Tune in real soon…..

Shorts, Skirts and Serious Trousers

Hello Poetry Lovers

We visit the poetry wardrobe again in a nostalgic fashion (geddit!) The wonderful, clever and beautiful Trisha Broomfield sweeps us up with nostalgia and wistfulness in this amazing piece.

Thank you, Trisha, these are such detailed words that will strike a chord in all of us. Even Mrs Slagg became misty-eyed. Do read on;

Shorts, Skirts and Serious Trousers

I don’t wear shorts,

inherited my father’s knees,

dresses likewise, see above

but I do flirt with skirts,

hems, sweeping the floor

of course, while in my mind

I swan around in flares

like a long-legged Charlie’s Angel

70’s style, I was Sabrina.

I dream of the mini skirts of my youth

plan my autumn purchases,

thick tights, a skirt to cover my bum

just, thigh length boots, in serious suede

but never comes the day.

I swish around in trousers

wide-legged, baggy

imagining I’m Lauren Bacall

I always admired a woman with balls.

Trisha Broomfield 2021

Wasn’t that just fabulous?! Sabrina, eh? Memories of watching Charlie’s Angels in the summer of ‘77 flood back. Thank you, Trisha, a joy to read. Keep them coming…

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back with my poetry antics real soon…..