Family Hound

It’s only been a few days since Rebecca gave me a new set of words, and I surprised myself by knowing instantly what to do with them. Maybe because this was an easier set than last time (when she gave me Shakespearean words) or maybe my muse was just having a good day.

The words she game me where am, spot and slip. As soon as I read them I had an image of a spotty dog. slipping and sliding around. Which lead to this:

I am Spot

Dotty hound

Grotty hound

Sometimes tangly

Knotty hound

 

I am Spot

Slippy hound

Yippy hound

Sometimes wet and

Drippy hound

 

I am Spot

Leapy hound

Creepy hound

Sometimes tired and

Sleepy hound.

 

I

am

Spot.

 

(Poem Copyright Sally Murphy, 2016)

Thanks for the words, Rebecca.

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Almost

You would think that by giving me just one word to incorporate, Rebecca could have relied on a prompt turnaround by me, but  once again I have been tied up in much busyness, and it was seeing Rebecca on the weekend at a wonderful conference that reminded me about my tardiness.

So, here is my poem, with apologies for lateness.

Almost

I almost

wrote about poetry

but that would be too meta.

I almost

wrote about Rebecca

but she wrote about me last time.

I almost

wrote about not knowing

what to write about, but that’s been done.

So instead

I wrote about all three things.

I’m almost too clever!

(Sally Murphy, 2015).

A Ferocious Poem

You can see from the previous post that Sally gave me ‘ferocious, two, hole and brilliant’ to work into a poem. By the time I had muttered ‘ferocious’ to myself 203 times it started sounding a bit weird. So I went with that! (Now I’m quite fond of the word ferocious and it’s lost its ferociousness. But I’m not sure I can spell it anymore.)

A FEROCIOUS POEM

One ferocious summer’s day
I took a ferocious walk,
I passed a ferocious garden gate
and stopped for ferocious talk.

I browsed at ferocious markets,
I bought a ferocious scarf,
the ferocious woman who sold it to me
laughed a ferocious laugh.

A ferocious lunch was needed to fill
the ferocious hole in my tum
I climbed aboard a ferocious bus
I hummed a ferocious hum.

I found two ferocious curries
left by ferocious Gran,
I heated them to a ferocious heat
in a ferocious frying pan.

A brilliant if somewhat ferocious sun
cast its last ferocious ray.
I pulled my ferocious pyjamas on —
What a ferocious day!

 

Copyright Rebecca Newman 2014