My Weekly Writing Challenge

It’s Thursday and here’s my new weekly writing challenge. Your three options are:

Option one: Write a limerick with the word nosey in it somewhere

Option two: Write a poem on the theme of hope

Option three: Write a ten-word story using all of the following words: Collywobbles, pink, wasp and cheese

Last week option one was to write a limerick with the word bubble featuring in it somewhere. Here are the laugh out loud results:

Graeme Sandford‘s limericks are fantastic, as I’m sure you’ll agree:

It was only a bubble of my possible thoughts
At least it was something not a bucket of noughts
For ideas were scarce
Up the old apples and pears
And I much prefer writing to sports.

Hey! I used the word ‘bubble’ in rhyme
It may have been my very first time
I will use it again
In another refrain
But, to overuse it would be a poetry crime.

Oh, dear; now I am in a bathful of trouble
For writing Limericks about the prompt that is ‘bubble’
And now to come clean
And just say what I mean
All my dreams they are turning to flubble.

Please visit Tessa Smeigh‘s site to read her funny limerick:

http://finallyawriter.com/2016/01/21/my-weekly-writing-challenge-esther-newton-blog-2/

Jane Basil is back with a bang, taking part in all three challenges. Here’s her brilliant limerick:

My grandad in amorous mood
didn’t notice the gum granny chewed
her best-ever bubble
got popped by his stubble
and now their lips are glued.

Jason Moody entered two of the challenges. Here he entertains with two limericks:

There once was a girl named Mary
Who’s said to be away with the fairies
Living in a bubble
She’d avoid all life’s troubles
If you think, is rather quite scary.

I awoke with a start one fine morning
Unable to stop myself yawning
I fell out of bed
And bumped my head
So please let that be a warning!

Option two was to write a poem on the theme of nature:

First up is Jane Basil with her wonderful poem. Please visit her site to read it:

https://janebasilblog.wordpress.com/2016/01/22/a-cerebral-ramble/

Geoff Le Pard sent in two powerful sonnets on the subject of climate change on mother nature:

Global Warming: The Future’s Hot

His skin is a sticky backed plastic,
One he made earlier. A white
Crust forms, pores oozing their oily mastic,
Like a shield displaying the toiler’s blight.
He bows his head against the drooping sun,
Leans into the teeth of the harsh solar wind;
Effortful tears round his farrowed eyes run,
Each suppurating drop leaving him blind,
False-stepping from trimmed field to tangled Web,
While arrogant man thinks he’s in control;
The future’s a desert, his life-waters ebb,
Jet-glazed, he continues his skills to extol.
For our children the tide will lap them with dust;
Our bequest will be fields we have covered with rust.

A Springless Future

Cold Jack, content and job well done, crept home
Allowing Spring her turn to warm the earth.
Crocus tongues pushed out through softening loam
As glass-eyed shepherds watched their flock give birth.
We, unplucked youth, prime cocked with urgent sap,
Felt the tug of Nature’s call to breed.
Like sheep, we followed Her bewitching map
To plant, in fertile earth, our febrile seed.
Yet somewhere Nature’s diverse scheme was lost;
Our black-fuelled lust seared seasons into one.
Our greed has neutered Jack; he’s become a ghost,
Sharp fingers culled by a remorseless sun.
Why would our lambs breed, given this breach of trust?
We’ve fried this once green Earth, turning it to dust.

 

Here’s Jason Moody’s thought-provoking poem:

It’s everywhere, but I bet you’ve forgotten
As your roll over the parts less trodden.

You claim that you care, I’m not sure you do
Your efforts are token, your hearts are not true.

Your buildings they climb the profits they rise
Blissfully ignorant of natures demise.

The final option was to write a ten-word story using all of the following words: Fandango, insipid, trifle and gurning:

Jo Lambert has been very busy of late, but it’s great to see her back with this funny story:

Wine insipid, trifle awful, now hitting the dancefloor to Fandango.

Now it’s Jane Basil‘s turn to amuse:

Gurning nauseously, he danced an insipid fandango while guzzling trifle.

Lastly, here’s Graeme Sandford with his witty story:

“Mr Insipid?”
“Yes!”
(Gurning): “Mr. Fandango is a trifle upset!”

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