Monthly Archives: Mar 2023

Here’s how it works: Every Wednesday I post a photo (this week it’s that one above.) You respond with something CREATIVE Here are some suggestions: …

Crimson’s Creative Challenge # 229

Another great weekly challenge from the lovely Crispina,

Tried to stick with the true limerick tradition at https://bobfairfield.org/2023/03/29/crimsons-creative-challenge-229-cheers-molly/ I have referenced a blast from the past, Be offended, be very offended.

Young Mrs Slocombe was a brazen hussy

Always promising a feel of her pussy

When I found out she meant her cat

I thought to myself, Well, fancy that,”

but I still stroked it, I’m not fussy.

Though it may be hard for people these days

to remember the palaver that it used to entail

if we wanted to send someone greetings or messages

we used either the home phone or the Royal Mail

The boat leans awkwardly to one side

patiently waiting for the incoming tide

to gently raise her wooden flanks

away from the harsh gravel banks

and allow her steadfast crew of three

to once more take her out to sea

and hope their nets are filled before

returning to the land once more

and as the salty waters leach

can settle once more onto the beach.

Hunting for berries

the thrush has no time for song

Winter of silence

Holly’s expressionless face appeared on the screen above the console. The alarm light was flashing and the siren was steadily increasing in volume. Holly, calmly informed us that she had picked up a call from another ship. Finally, something to relieve the boredom of space. She patched it through on speaker and a familiar voice announced, “This is the Starship Enterprise, is anyone receiving us?” There was a unanimous cry of, “Ignore it.”

At the end of the rainbow

we have always been told

is to be sure to be found

a great pot of gold

so I chase each rainbow

but they always seem

to keep the same distance

just ahead of me

Lip stinging, nose burning, eyes watering, skin reddening, chest tightening, foul smelling, breathtaking, poopsi.

Childhood memories

released from each falling flake

smiles dance in the air

Forlorn, the tipsy tower sits

amidst the closely shaven stalks

open-mouthed fit trees stand tall

winds whispering with silent shame

in expectation of the fall