Rhyme and Reason

First of all I'd like to say, straight off, that I'm no great wit. Nor am I more than moderately intelligent. Just because I can throw a few words and phrases together and make them rhyme does not make me a poet. In fact I prefer the term "rhymester". Honestly, anyone with half a brain can do it. All it really takes is an average vocabulary and a keen sense of rhythm.

When I was - well, let's say a FEW years younger, my friend and I used to play a game together that we called "Word and Question". What we did was to take little slips of paper, and on half of them we'd write single words - any that popped into our heads - and then fold them and place them in either a pile, or some sort of container. Then, on the other half we'd write a question - again, anything that occurred to us - and place these in another pile or container. Next, we'd shuffle them really well and each of us would take a slip of paper from each and write them both at the top of a sheet of paper. The object was to write a few lines of either verse or prose in which we would answer the question (or try to) but we had to make sure that we used the word in our answer. Of course I always responded in rhyme.

I think this is when I realised how much easier it is to write in verse - for me at least. Perversely, I think it's because of the restrictions of rhyme and tempo. If you have something to say, it's often easier to know that you have to stay within the boundaries or rules of verse-making, rather like a child learning to colour pictures has to stay within the lines. I find a kind of comfort in it. You have more control - it doesn't run away from you.

Anyway, I digress! Word and Question! In most cases, the word had absolutely nothing in common with the question, or it's reply, so this was where you had to be a little creative. Still, to show you how easy it is, I'll tell you about one that my younger sister, who was then about seven or eight, did.

The word she picked was "Arms", the question "Did Nelson wear glasses?". Here is her reply -

It's been asked if Horatio Nelson wore goggles.
If that is the case - My! How the mind boggles!
Whether he did or he didn't, I know not or care,
Still - no 'arms been done in the asking, has there?

You can see how proud I was of her! I remember it verbatim! Clever little thing wasn't she? Still is, actually. She can run rings round me in the brains department.

So, that was how I realised I could really do this! I can write verse! And so can any of you out there. Try it! I'm sure inside a few of you there's a Shelley or Keats - or even a Pam Ayres!

Good versifying! 8-)

Night Stalker

Silently, stealthily he winds his way,
Utilising the dark recesses,
Creeping up on unsuspecting prey
Made helpless in his deadly caresses.

Through the darkness, feel his power!
Lesser creatures should beware,
For if by chance you see him glower,
You will wish yourself elsewhere.

Bewhiskered hunter, King of Night,
His gleaming fangs will give you pause.
All the mice on the block turn white with fright
When the Devil-Cat flexes his claws.

Flower Power

It really isn't funny

When the day is warm and sunny

But your nose is red and runny

Though you haven't got the flu.

And isn't it a pity

When the garden looks so pretty

That you eyes are dry and gritty

So you can't enjoy the view.

Throughout the Summer season

While you're coughin', pantin', wheezin',

Snufflin', splutterin' and sneezin'

Others frolic in the sun.

Antihistamines can buffer

The discomfort that you suffer

Still, you find it so much tougher,

In a heatwave, to have fun.

It's amazing that a flower

So petite, can have the power

To reduce, within an hour

Human beings to floods of tears.

So we all should raise a glass

To the humble blade of grass

No, on second thoughts - I'll pass!

Here's to Autumn weather - CHEERS!

This versification is dedicated to all of you out there who, like me, are the tragic victims of Mother Nature.