My Weekly Writing Challenge

It’s Friday tomorrow so you’ve nearly made it to the weekend 🙂 I hope your week’s been a good one. Here’s my new challenge for you:

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

Option two: Write a poem on the theme of TRANSPORT

Option three: Write a ten-word story using all of the following words: JOKE, SINGING, GRAHAM, GAZUMPED and VICTORY

Last week option one was to write a limerick with the word BREAD featuring in it somewhere. Here are the wonderful results:

Keith Channing was swiftly first in with his delightful offerings:

A bevy of boulangerisms

Sitting here in my old garden shed,
I’m writing a Lim’rick about bread.
I was just far too swamped
To take up last week’s prompt,
So I’m doing it this week instead.

I should say as well, not instead,
But I’ve just dragged myself out of bed
What I really need most
Is some hot buttered toast.
Oh bugger! I’ve run out of bread.

The boulangerie’s not too far
I’ll be there in five minutes by car
If I buy some bread
While my wife’s still in bed
Perhaps she will think I’m a star.

The boulangerie’s not open yet
So the big shop is a better bet
I’ll toast her a crumpet
She’ll like it or lump it
It’s near enough bread – so no sweat!

That way I can carry on writing
Than shopping, it’s much more exciting
We’re right out of bread
But won’t end up dead
Since hot buttered crumpet’s inviting.

Keith said ‘I know you didn’t ask for it but, just for fun, how about a limerick including the word ‘hypnogenesis’? Possible? You be the judge’. I love it:

There’s a new type of pill soporific
Whose effect is, they say, just terrific.
For me, watching tennis is
Pure hypnogenesis;
It works, though it’s not scientific.

Traci Aina’s limerick will certainly raise a smile:

There was an old man named Fred

Who was totally addicted to bread

Sometimes it was jam

At other times ham

But now he’s going low carb instead.

David Harrison came up with two excellent limericks:

Unable to find a fruit cake

Or make biscuits as I couldn’t bake

I was forced instead

To make do with brown bread

Come on somebody-grill me a steak!


For his birthday unfortunate Mike

Had designs on a spanking new bike

His mean wife instead

Wrapped up some bread

And said “As for the bike, take a hike!

It’s now over to Graeme Sandford. Prepare to laugh:

Bread Limerick #1

‘Bread’ you said, not potato or shed
And definitely not a hula-hoop made of lead;
A roll, or loaf
Sliced, buttered or both
And lightly toasted to give them street-cred?

Bread Limerick #2

“The torpedoes are ready, captain.”
“Thank you, number one.”

Although the men are quite happy with their stale Chelsea bun.”

“Just one bun between you;

That will never do;

It’s not by eating a left over pastry that HMS Breadnought will ever beat the Hun.”

Upper-Crust Bread Limerick #3

Use your loaf and toast the queen
If you’re well bred and voted Green
Though if your ‘bread’ is green
It’s probably a has-been
And, well, not that fit for a queen.

Bread Limerick #4

Bread and Bunjolina went to the bakery one day
To pit their wits against the baker with his wares upon his tray
They tried the most; they tried the least
They rose to the occasion like a loaf hosting yeast
But, even though the baker won, they all had jolie good fun anyway.

Bread Limerick #5

Sliced thin or thick
With butter to lick
Brown, white
Take a bite
Lovely indeed; does the trick.

Bread Limerick #6

I won’t mention bread in this rhyme
I mentioned it some other time
Crumbs are okay
But, I’d just like to say
I won’t be committing ‘that’ crime.

Limerick du pain #sept (parlé avec un accent Français, si vous plaît).

There once was a baker named Ablur
Who could bake his bread formidable
In Marseille he bakéd
Though his accent was fakéd
His was the bread you’d want served sur votre tablé.

Bread Limerick #8

A man by the name of Charlie Abel Baker
Was late-to-bed; and, therefore a late-waker
He stayed up one night
Until dawn’s early light
And as he was going to be late for work that morning (in a bakery, perchance – where he proved the bread, or provoked it, I’m a bit hazy on the detail there), he had to rush his porridge oats (they were Quaker).

 Please check out ladyleemanila‘s website for her entertaining limerick:

Option two was for a poem on the theme of BIRTHDAYS.

Geoff Le Pard often brings something funny to the table. Here he goes for something a bit different:

The Last Birthday

She died on her birthday
Part of a make do and mend generation.

I began to unclutter the next day
Myself it would numb the sensation

Shoes to sort, bills to pay
Her coats in anticipation

Of clearing the way.
My heart with deliberation

For a future which may
Some peace for my consideration.

Birthdays suck.

Rajiv sent in another strong poem:

The night he was born
On the Cape of Good Horn
Lucifer cried to me,
“I am King of all I see!”

“It’s very dark, I like the dark.
And here I shall make my mark.”
He smiled at me, he laughed he smirked,
From the time I saw his birth.

The final option was to write a ten-word story using all of the following words: FATAL, CHEESE, FACEBOOK, LOGOLEPSY and PIGGESNYE

Rajiv sent in a super one:

Don’t buy piggesyne or logolepsy cheese from Facebook. It’s fatal!

Sarah Evans went over the word count but I love her story anyway!:

Cheese-y Tom used Facebook for Piggesnye and Logolepsy reasons but it proved fatal!

David Harrison’s story brings the challenge to a brilliant close:

Piggesnye and logolepsy? Fatal! Must be Facebook words. Hard cheese!



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42 Responses to My Weekly Writing Challenge

  1. Sacha Black says:

    The joke’s on Graham, while singing ‘Victory’ he got gazumped.

  2. Steve says:

    Since you like to introduce the world to British terms like ‘codswallop’ 🙂

    How many composed people do yell!
    When their home team scores not so well.
    “That was a sitter!” They shout.
    “Ou’nited lets sort it out!”
    “Codswallop, my gran could do just as well!”

  3. Published at Fish’s punch?

    “You are”, my dad said, “such a trollop.
    You don’t walk with grace, you just lollop.”
    I’ve heard this before,
    Can’t take it no more,
    The old man talks so much codswallop!

    “Codswallop,” he said, pitching higher,
    “You’ll wind up too deep in the mire.
    It’s a gift to the bat
    When you bowl it so flat,
    You must set the stadium on fire.”

    “I’ve just read a book by young Trollope,”
    He said, tucking into a scollop.
    “I found it prosaic
    And truly archaic,
    In fact, the whole thing was codswallop.”

  4. Le Fragi says:

    Codswallop Limerick #1

    “There is no suitable place for codswallop!”
    Wrote the writer Mr. Anthony Trollope
    “Except in pure tripe,
    Written when ripe;
    Like in the Barchester’s – where there’s ‘many’ a dollop.”


  5. Le Fragi says:

    Codswallop Limerick #2

    Why do ‘two’ Limericks about Codswallop, when one would really do?
    I should stop after the first attempt; that will surely do!
    To over-egg the pudding
    May cause the Limerick to malfunction
    And you wouldn’t want that to happen – would you?


  6. Le Fragi says:

    Codswallop Limerick #3

    And as for a third Limerick; that would be really silly;
    To write once more and again upon the ‘Cods-wallop-thing subject’ willy-nilly
    So, defer, I shall
    Lest my impressiveness should pall
    And I then receive a reception rather chilly.


  7. Rajiv says:

    Oh boy… I had to go to the dictionary for gazumped! Here goes.

    10 word story:
    Singing a joke, I gazumped Graham. Victory! I love you!

    Poem on ‘Transport’, kinda inspired by our upcoming Holi festival

    “Grey, grey, the world is grey,
    When I wake up every day.
    What can I say, the world is drab,
    And this makes us all feel sad.

    One day, I heard of the festival Holi
    I travelled to witness something holy.
    What I found, shocked my senses,
    The colours, the flowers, broke my fences.

    The colours were my means of transport,
    Taking my soul to a different port
    The grey, I realised, was in my brain
    Causing me much needless pain.

    I now have become a Holy Fool
    And now have made colours my tool
    To transport people on a different path
    Away, away from a dreary past.”

  8. Le Fragi says:

    “A Transport of Delight”

    On Shanks’s Pony
    I stride along
    Whilst singing a merry travelling song
    Which is neither too short
    Nor neither too long
    It fits perfectly with the rhythm of my song
    Left, right and repeat in turn
    It was when I was one that this I did learn
    And when I was twenty-one I earned my wings
    And flew about upon suspended swings
    For an aeroplane is not one of the things
    That I would trust me with;
    I could train to be a pilot
    But, by train I prefer to go
    Destination outward
    Destination return
    Travelling to and fro
    And a bicycle made for two
    Well that would never do
    When I could have such fun
    On a bicycle made for one
    But, don’t try and tempt me with a unicycle
    I would try and fail, or fall
    So, don’t you be taking of the Michael
    You may as well just saddle up that unicorn
    For I was born to ride
    Upon an iron horse
    Or in a Viking longboat
    Guided by the Norse god, Thor
    It’s what my journeys are taken for.

    Any way, I have transported myself much too much this time
    And have to bide a while to recover the rhyme
    So, in retrospect, ‘not’ to move is sometimes sublime.

  9. Le Fragi says:

    Trains are fun;
    Rails they run upon
    Airports are busy,
    Noisy and confusing
    Spacecraft are cool;
    Planets for the discovering
    Omnibuses are red (mostly)
    Routemasters definitely are;
    Transporting me away.


  10. Le Fragi says:

    “Steam trains obviously, my man!”
    I thought that was a no-brainer
    I’m not a diesel or electric train fan
    I love the smoke, the steam, the feeling of nostalgia
    When I travel upon the old rolling stock
    Time goes back… tock!
    To the olden days I shall stick
    As I claim my third-class seat
    And await the cry:
    “All aboard for Adlestrop!”
    Oh, for trains gone by.


  11. Le Fragi says:


    My boat departs at three
    And I shall be a stowaway ’til tea
    Then I shall be a pirate
    Or a pirate’s prating parrot
    I don’t mind which
    As all I want to say is
    ‘Pieces of eight!
    Pieces of eight!’
    I am no ancient mariner
    I’m a cabin-boy in my head
    I’ll sail the seven oceans
    And count myself
    As blessed
    Until it’s time for bed.


  12. Graham told a joke, got gazumped! So started singing victory. 🙂

  13. Lots to smile about there Esther, some great limericks..

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