A contribution to Ronovan’s Decima Challenge 65 with Go being the prompt word on the B rhyme line.
Old Possum Rides Again
Our garden boils with local cats.
They dig the earth where seedlings grow,
squat, poop, paw back the soil and go
on sniffing out domestic rats.
They are feline aristocrats
whose sleek demeanour, haughty ways
drove Eliot to overpraise
their practicality. My wife
is apt to chase them with a knife,
back through the local alleyways.
A contribution to Ronovan’s Decima Challenge with WHIM as the prompt word on the B rhyme line.
The Dylan/Perkins Controversy
Bob Dylan, in Workingman's Blues,
once went into town on a whim,
saw his Pa (or thought it was him)
wearing a pair of Blue Suede Shoes.
Carl Perkins was shocked at the news,
thought, How can this possibly be.
Those shoes are agnatic to me!
But Dylan was not to be crossed
and Perkins was not to be bossed.
It ended unmusically!
For Ronovan’s Decima Challenge with GOLD as the prompt word on the A rhyme line.
Gave Up Years Ago
I liked my cigarettes self-rolled.
The craft of it is quite a trick;
paper out, baccy in, quick lick
the glued strip, fingers poised to fold
an aromatic Autumn Gold.
I did enjoy a puff, a drag
of a smooth, perfect, homemade fag.
The curling smoke, the stained ceiling
showing how my lungs were feeling,
enveloped by this noxious shag.
This week's contribution to Ronovan's Decima Challenge #54 with BIRTH as the prompt word on the D rhyme line
How We Mythologise
When Joseph found his wife with child
he was suspicious as she'd not
found time to let him have the lot;
he thought she may have been defiled.
She claimed that she had spent a wild
night sleeping with some holy ghost,
but being young, inclined to boast,
and noticing her growing girth,
invented tales of virgin birth;
because otherwise, she was toast.
Here’s a go at Ronovan’s Decima Challenge #52, with Noise being the prompt word on the B rhyme line. I’ve done a couple….
I wake. Somewhere there is a whine
not so unlike those clockwork toys
that children wind up for the noise;
but could, perhaps, be endocrine
secretion from those glands of mine
in need of oiling or repair,
some maintenance, mechanic care.
Bodily organs, failing fast,
(although they are not built to last)
infrequently come with a spare.....
Jim said, You know the haunted pub,
the one out there in Theydon Bois?
The landlord swore he heard a noise,
a voice spoke of Beelzebub!
They filled their knapsacks with some grub
and travelled on the Central Line,
arriving there at closing time.
The darkness came, they waited, mute,
both fearful and irresolute.
Next morning, they were Scene of Crime.....
A contribution to Ronovan’s Decima Challenge #51 with CAUSE being the prompt word on the A rhyme line.
I've long been faithful to the cause,
the striving for a kinder world,
a pregnant blossoming unfurled,
Arms dealers, with their rabid wars,
consigned to tilling common land;
beachcombers on the long sea-strand
picking over long lost treasure,
that pure, ancient, human pleasure
of reaching out a helping hand.
Here’s a contribution to Ronovan’s Decima Challenge #50 with Dance as the prompt word on the D rhyme line.
The Tango from the Argentine,
the Salsa with it's Cuban thrall,
the Cha Cha, Rumba, Samba all
pervaded with their Latin shine
as minds and bodies intertwine.
The Waltz, the Quickstep, Foxtrot too,
are more sedate, yet couples glue
their lower trunks intact, perchance
to move as one throughout the dance.
Enrapturement! Love's rendezvous!
With Chirp and Twilight as the prompt words.
dusk full of final chirrups
our night birds settling
A St. Patrick’s Day contribution to Ronovan’s decima challenge No.49 with Shock as the prompt word on the C rhyme line.
St. Patrick's Day 1850
Eight hundred years and Irish folk
will still endure the iron fist,
will still find courage to resist
violation by England's yoke.
With savagery it's tried to choke
the lifeblood from the Irish flock;
in famine days arranged to block
the shipment of much needed wheat;
ensured the genocide complete,
St. Patrick weeping, feigning shock.
Where has winter gone?
Of which winter do you speak?
All the winters gone.....
One tree blossoming
petals pink as perfection