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…..

It’s here at last…..

Hello Poetry Lovers

Well, Summer has been a fashionable latecomer this year, but better late than never…

The lovely clever poet, Sharron Green has penned this beautiful piece Suddenly Summer which captures so many images and senses that this season has (finally ) brought. Thank you so much, Sharron.

Do read on…

Suddenly Summer

Suddenly summer unfurled her

warm rays,

reached through the torrent of

rainy grey days.

Nature so vibrant from weeks on

the lash,

scurried to showcase its

burgeoning stash

Humans who’d hunkered in forced hibernation,

skipped from the shadows with joy

and elation.

Smiles on their faces their skin out

on show,

cleansed and refreshed by the sun’s

healthy glow.

Meanwhile the bees buzzed from

blossom to bloom,

making the most of a break from

the gloom.

Rhymes_n_roses 2021

Wasn’t that beautiful?! Keep them coming, Sharron. Thank you so much. I pictured so much with that lovely piece.

Thanks for looking in, Poetry Lovers, and any pieces on this warm season are welcome.

Tune in real soon, same time, same channel…..

The Poetry Shop

Welcome, Poetry Lovers, to our new poetry emporium. Opening up bang next door to the Slagg’s Cafe, you’ll find everything you want in here! Even Mrs Slagg’s given it the Thumbs Up

As long as you buy one of her tea’s after, that is.

This fine emporium offers a vast array of poetry forms for the uninspired poet.

Be inspired by our bargain buckets

One to one consultations on the prompt poem

Or that timeless classic, the Diminishing Verse

Even Dobby’s in on the act, promoting her editing business.

Visit us now – two minutes from this theatre….

Thanks for tuning in, Poetry Lovers, and I look forward to seeing you real soon.

Poetry Handbag

Hello Poetry Lovers

Welcome to the Poetry Handbag. These bags are such a part of our lives that I think they should be featured. They are as close to our hearts as our written poems, and their contents contain so much of us.

The clever and wonderful poet, Trisha Broomfield, has penned a very poignant piece about these vital accessories and the handbags she has loved and lost. Don’t we all remember them? And ones that were not gained at all.

Do read on, it’s a lovely piece

Handbag Regrets

There was the tan bag my mum offered me but I declined

the real croc, snappy clasp, offered by an elderly aunt

but I declined

the suede patchwork with fringes

left that in the seventies

along with the long strap shoulder bag

with the Watney’s Red Barrel key ring

dangling from its tarnished loop

left behind too,

then there were the ‘I love the colour’ bags

the ‘go with everything’ bags

that never went with anything bags

the Italian bags bought with Lire

proper leather, brought out for ‘meetings’,

Zoom doesn’t call for handbags,

the summer white bag containing

a tiny purse

of your ashes

donated

too late, I remembered.

Trisha Broomfield 6th April 2021

Wasn’t that such a beautiful piece?! Stirring so many memories and ending with that sadness and loss. I often mourn the handbags of yesteryear. They still have the power to haunt you.

Any pieces bag-related are most welcome.

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s Watch this space for more poetry adventures.

Funny Poems…

Hello, Poetry Lovers

Today I’m presenting a humorous verse that actually rhymes. This form is not big with me but I thought it a nice pre-vaccine thing to do, (second jab tomorrow), and it might make Mrs Slagg smile, you never know. The poem, not the vaccine.

Do read on ….

Lacy Economics

I thought I knew your face,

I remember now who you are.

You had a red spotted tie,

and I wore a pink laced bra.

I recall the feel of your lips

upon my unsuspecting skin.

You asked me to lend you money,

and in your wallet you put it in.

I was bereft when you left me and

I ached all over for your touch.

My heart and purse went with you,

I want one of them back very much.

Hand it over, you tight bastard,

do Paypal or write a cheque.

Then I can walk away with pride,

without wringing your neck.

Gulp! Will this pass the Slagg’s audition? Will it appeal to Mrs Slagg? Who knows??

Thanks for tuning in, Poetry Lovers. I’ve got more poetry forms up my sleeve, same time, same channel….

Ovi Capers

Hello Poetry Lovers

I’ve been a bit behind this week. I’ve been so absorbed with the daily poetry tasks from the magical Poetixu Stucture Workshop led by the charming Dara Kalima, an amazing American poet and inspiration.

So, this is my stab at an Ovi poem an ancient Indian form. Of course, it’s all about me! What did you expect?!

Do read on;

I hope you liked that. My current task is writing a Ghazal. Wish me luck

Thanks for tuning, PL’s. Be back with more poetry antics same time, same channel…

The Kyrielle Affair

Hello Poetry Lovers

Well, I’ve jumped in at the deep end again and tried a new form of poetry.

This is day one of the amazing Poetixu Structure Workshop, and already my eyes have opened up. They offer wonderful courses to poets all over the world on Instagram. Thank you, Sharron Green, for getting me onto this great institution.

Anyway, I wrote this down just before bed last night. ( I don’t know what Dobby thought of that one! ). Then I spent most of the day trying to work out how to do this layout. (Thank you for your patience and help, Sharron).

Anyway, have a look, you might want to try this form too.

Interesting stuff, eh? We’ll be back with more poetry capers this week.

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s.

Dobby’s Poem….

Hello, Poetry Lovers

well, the lovely poet Sharron Green has written a beautiful acrostic for a certain feline we know as Dobby. It’s a lovely thoughtful piece, thank you so much, Sharron. Do read on

Dobby

Daintiest lady, poised and petite

Only accepts the best fish to eat

Black satin fur that shines in the sun

Bewitching eyes convey so much fun

You’re lucky that Heather’s your mum

Isn’t that a lovely piece? It’s also passed muster with Mrs Slagg, who, despite her formidable front, is mad on cats.

Hopefully, Dobby will agree with the last line although she’s yet to show any gratitude.

Look at more of Sharron’s lovely poems on

http://Rhymesnroses.com. Really worth a look.

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

Sardines for Supper…..

Hello Poetry Lovers

Thought I’d put a nice summery picture on here from 2017.

I admit I’m not actually eating sardines there in that Regents Park Cafe, however, Trisha Broomfield’s marvellous piece Sardines for Supper brought them back to me so sharply.

It’s funny how these supposedly functional ways of living affect us. When I go to Tesco, I literally flock to their tinned mackrel, tuna and yes, sardines. Giving me mixed childhood memories about fish for tea. I loved it and hated it.

Not only that, we’ve all seen customers like this.

I found this poem poignant, vivid and that it said such a lot about us.

Sardines for Supper

Walking, tottering, muttering

wool hat wearing, trolley propping

raincoat sporting

Pavement parking, (two wheels on)

post office queuing,

Whispering, grumbling, mumbling,

short-sighted rummaging

Stacks of cans tumbling, split tomatoes

rolling in the aisles,

short change counting

‘I’m sorry I’m a penny short

read that for me will ya’ ducks?’

White faced, wrinkle clad

faded gazes, flat shoed, bunion toed;

in their baskets tinned soup, gold top milk

sardines for supper,

and a slab of chocolate to last the week.

I stand behind, count their items,

this is an express till!

I peer at labels, promise I will never be like that

rummage for my glasses,

complain that salmon has gone up

since last week.

My turn to place my purchases,

sardines for supper

and slab of chocolate to last me the week.

Trisha Broomfield 2011

Wasn’t that just terrific?! Thank you so much, Trisha. Such a moving piece. I’m afraid, however, you have set Dobby off

She is now expecting – you’ve guessed it – sardines for tea….

Thank you for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back real soon with more poetry antics

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