Category: Competition

This way, gang!

In the heavy evening air she was pursued by hundreds of manic males and chose our white garden parasol as the scene of her nuptials. But no shrinking violet this girl! She fought off one suitor after another, demanding the attentions of only the strongest and most persistent. It went on for hours until darkness fell and the bodies of the successful males lay scattered acrosss the white fabric. No doubt the queen ant had already settled on her new home, somewhere nearby.

That’s life in the wild wood.

Summertime – the August poetry challenge

To introduce the next competition, I can’t resist quoting a lyrical George (this week’s name, innit?):

Summertime,
And the livin’ is easy
Fish are jumpin’
And the cotton is high

Your daddy’s rich
And your mamma’s good lookin’
So hush little baby
Don’t you cry

Continue reading “Summertime – the August poetry challenge”

Short and Sweet – Poetry Competition Winner

Thank you for your entries, FEEG, Janus and JW. I smiled and chuckled my way through your imaginative, charming and hilarious poems. Each one was a winner in my book, but in the end I decided that Janus had the edge for the invention of the deliciously naughty Miss ANGELICA CINNAMON BUNN.

Congratulations, Janus! 🙂

Plant eaters of the world, we salute you

The T-Rexes weren’t so tough, couldn’t get it on
One little cold spell and they bit the dust
Survival of the fittest and the Herbivores won
We warmed to the Ice Age while the rest went bust

So me and Barry the Bronto, the last of our breeds
We’re never in one place, we roam from jungle to forest
with a hup two, three, four, dress it up, two, three, four
Searching for a verbosari or two to nibble for breakfast

And then we espy a gringomere herb that we’ve not tasted in years
Jurassic Park! There’s a girl using it as a sun bed
And she’s got a hundred and one guardians around her
Times like this us herbies wish we were T-Rexes instead

Ladies

She’s the most unlikely athlete to look at. None of the usual wasp waist and slender limb. But she oozes determination with her shadow-shots – all double-handed and as ungainly as her play. But she wins – and might just spring a surprise today. And then she’ll do this again, I’m sure. Wimbledon, 2 pm BST.

France's Marion Bartoli overpowered Belgian Kirsten Flipkens 6-1, 6-2 to reach her second Wimbledon final. She faces Germany's Sabine Lisicki in the final.

Pome: Girl in a dream

It’s alright for you lot just ‘avin’ a larf!
But that’s me in the picture wot ‘Enri ‘as done.
And it’s my dream ‘e painted; you don’t know the ‘alf!
And my name is Angelica Cinnamon Bunn.

You’ll be askin’ me ‘ow all them animals came
To be sniffin’ around in my jungle that night.
Well I’d ‘ad quite a day, as you do in my game,
With a saunter round fur shops in town – my delight!

Then in the arcade stood old ‘Enri. ‘E’d stopped
To admire my sleek outlines, ‘e said with such charm.
When I told ‘im I’d show ‘im some more if ‘e dropped
A few quid in me purse, ‘e just gave me ‘is arm.

It takes a few hours to ‘do justice’, ‘e said,
While I lay in the buff and just studied ‘is cat;
It was stuffed and lay, looking surprised, on the bed –
But ‘e wouldn’t let on ‘ow it ended like that.

That evening ‘e took me to dinner, you see.
And ‘e asked me to sit again soon, s’il vous plait.
Then I told ‘im my dream while ‘e painted; the fee
For the nightmare was double ‘e’d paid for the day.