Saturday May 17th, 2014

The exercise:

Write a four line poem about: the bazaar.

Had a very nice visit at the market in Penticton this morning. Good to see familiar faves and great to see it so busy. I know it was the first long weekend of the season, but we were there fairly early and the crowds were impressive.

Max had a great time, as expected. He didn't really want to leave, also as expected.


Bright colours assault my eyes,
Pungent spices stuff my nose.
Pickpockets grab at my clothes,
And my ears hear shouted lies.


Greg said...

Oh well, Max'll be back there soon enough when you start selling the strawberries! I'm sure he'll somehow manage to wait until then.
Great little poem, though I think the third and fourth lines are my favourite :)

The bazaar
I'm going to the market, well actually the souk,
But all who live here call it the bazaar.
In America it would be the shopping mall,
And frankly, I find that quite bizarre.

Marc said...

Greg - yeah, there are a dozen or fifty other things to distract him until we return :)

Really liked that you incorporated the different labels into your poem. And I can't help but appreciate your rhyming of 'bazaar' with 'bizarre' :D