Bottled Up

I'm the Cookie Monster.
I lived inside a jar,
till someone took the lid off -
and well, now, there you are!
Or rather,  that's where I am -
all free and on the loose.
But freedom, I've discovered,
is not a lot of use
when you haven't got a body,
let alone a pair of feet,
and now the jar is empty,
I've nothing left to eat!

Original image by Manu Pombrol used by Tess for Mag #115

The Question Is...

Today,
will the sun shine?
Will rain showers prevail,
or will capricious weather gods
send hail?

The sky 
remains unsure,
with blue and grey patches
fighting for supremacy,
today.

April
enjoys playing
with these variations,
becoming a true turncoat,
taunting!

And it's a good time for me to play with the Cinquain form...

'Dung' Bust It?

My long time Blogpal and verbal fencing partner, Doctor FTSE, has seen fit to write 55 words about **the pros and cons of horses as house pets ! Yes folks!  But remember, his blog name  'Stop!...This is getting very SILLY' does give you fair warning... And Jinksy, or even Jinksie, can rise to that Footsie humorous challenge, like so...

Thanks to indecipherable photographer!

In the question of horses for courses
dear Doc Footsie has plenty to learn.
His idea for changing a light bulb
is one I would certainly spurn.
I ask you, a horse in the house? Man!
Imagine the mess that might cause?
For dirty great dollops of horse dung
are most certainly best left outdoors.

And thanks to G-Man for whom I have penned a Friday ditty in 55 words.

** Click on these words to read all about it.

Late Night Extra : Or now, click on these, to see how Caddoc Trellis has horned in on the act!

Labour Of Love

For this week's Mag #113 prompt Tess gave us a picture by  Marc Chagall, called 'Red Roofs'.
I have taken a detail and adapted it to fit my tale, told in four shadormas - syllabic verses which follow a pattern of 3/5/3/3/7/5, in six lines.

Weary man
wipes perspiration
on his sleeve.
Fixing tiles
is not an occupation
which he can enjoy.

Heat reflects
upwards from the roof.
Summer sun
on his back
burns through the material
of a cotton shirt.

Only fear
of coming winter's
wind and rain
motivates
him to continue labour
with no thought of rest.

But when storms
rage round his homestead,
he'll rejoice
and recall
this day's work with gratitude,
all pain forgotten.

A Collective 2012

For an explanation of the following lines, and why they have been written, you will need to visit Imaginary Garden With Real Toads 

Some claim April rain
brings the blossoms of May,                           Grace O'Malley
but trees here are hasty           

like youth, ardor unrestrained       
eager for spring's first sweet kiss                    Art Happens 365

Sakura blossoms                          
In the arms of old man tree                             Skylover
Drops of moonlit milk

showgirls will perform a dance           
inspired by Moon light’s embrace                  Ella

her graceful waves in                         
a risqué spring ballet, legs                             Laurie Kolp
kick the darkened sky,

stars wink at rainbow feathers            
that tease with each fluttering.                       Susie Clevenger

My full heart flutters,                         
I become dancer and dance                           Other Mary
under April’s moon

and a blossoming cherry
in the sweet, full warmth of May.                 Kay, Alberta, Canada        

And we, resting far                                  
north where snow still flies and melts          Sunflower Shan
await midnight sun.

Polar day will not circle         
on cosmic calliope.                                          Jinksy

Pegasus gallops
to the music of the spheres,                             Caddoc Trellis
while star clusters spin.

The earth spins on its axis,                            
hums its music in B flat.                                  Margo Roby 

Spring pirouettes ice
spun sugar and crystal shards                        Misky
across the cosmos

silver vessel half moon
empties dawn into morning                          Jules

The night bids farewell.
Leaving a trail of stardust                              The Happy Amateur
it flies on its way.

Restored to herself, the earth                        (ditto)
Resumes her orderly spin
  

( Saturday, 8 a.m.. I've been updating to include later entries so far, but it's become too confusing to keep up! The best place to see them will be HERE)

And now, in May , the finished renga may be enjoyed in full, HERE, thanks to the organisational skills of Grace , over at IGWRT.

A New Day

The hatchling
danced in the dawn light.
Prying eyes
of the world
could not see her boundless joy
in new found freedom.



Inspired by Tess at Mag #112 and  her original image by djajakarta

Strictly For The Birds

First came the nest.
Then all the rest,
in season.
No further reason
needed for a pair
of birds, except where...
and how many eggs to lay.
One day,
a Mummy duck laid one.
"Way-hey! here I come!"
her duckling peeped
as the water seeped
around him.
"It's grim. I must swim!"
I'm not like that man.
He can
take off his shoes
and choose
to stay nest-bound,
on the ground.
I shall head for the high seas
if it please
me. My brain's not addled."
And off he paddled...

This is the Mag #111 picture by ParkeHarrison, which sent me dashing for my computer wizardry. This happened to give me the gift of duck 'shape', eventually. It set me versifying. April Fool's Day seemed an opportune date for such an offering....