Saturday May 3rd, 2014

The exercise:

Write a four line poem about: balls.

Because Kat bought two new balls for Max this morning while we were in town and we haven't heard too many other words since he laid eyes on them.

One of Kat's friends runs the drama club at the local high school and she invited us to check out the play they are putting on. We managed to catch the final show this evening while Max entertained his grandparents and it was quite a bit of fun.

I'm always impressed whenever I see teenagers getting up on stage and acting and singing, because I never, ever, ever would have done that at their age.


Bruised faces, bloodied noses,
Though we try the message just won't take!
Listen son, hard hit golf balls
Quite honestly don't good beach balls make...


Greg said...

At least you've distracted him from "Puppy!" for the moment though! And balls are cheaper than dogs, both initially and in the long-run, so that might not be such a bad thing :)
I think my first stage outing was at primary school, when I'd have been about 9 or 10. It was fun, and it's easier than it looks simply because you can't actually see the audience most of the time anyway. That said, there is a need to be able to act in the first place....
Heh, that sounds like a dangerous beach to be! And it sounds like the parents can't get close enough to take the golf balls and club away too... what a holiday!

The coming-out ball was Sunday night,
The Princess had planned for years.
But her brother upstaged her, in a better dress,
He came out; she burst into tears.

Marc said...

Greg - hah, yes, a brief respite from puppy was most welcome :)

Oh dear, the poor princess. That's a day she won't soon forget!