The exercise:
Our word of the day is: hurry.
There were storms swirling all around us today, with clouds weighed down by potential hail. We were fortunate enough to avoid all but a few drops of rain but we could see heavy precipitation to the south and north at various points throughout the day.
Hopefully other growers in the area were only visited by rain and not crop-destroying balls of ice.
Another row of strawberries weeded, leaving two more to go. I got a start on mulching the last two rows we did but there's still a long way to go with that.
Mine:
Hurry, hurry child,
There's a bad storm coming;
The horizon is black
And the wind is a humming.
Quick, quick boy,
A bad storm is brewing;
There's no time left,
Stop what you're doing.
Run, run girl,
This bad storm is howling;
Danger is near,
A fierce cat is prowling.
Go, go now!
The bad storm is growing!
No shelter will hide us
Now that fires are glowing!
Hurry, hurry dears,
This bad storm is gnashing;
Thunder is rolling,
Lightning is flashing.
No, no child,
The bad storm is winning;
We were much too slow -
In hellfire we're swimming.
2 comments:
I wouldn't have expected hail at this time of year! Still, at least you weren't hit by it, and I imagine it would do a lot of damage to things in blossom and growing soft fruit.
And it sounds like you're almost at the end of the strawberry-work! Do you have to start again from the beginning when that happens? :)
I like the energy of your poem today, and the imagery is rather good too. That said, I think the last line is a little strained (the word order inversion is always a good indicator of that!) and the last line of the third verse startled me too. However, this probably has more to do with the way I write than anything actually wrong with your poem!
Hurry
"Well, he's in a bit of a Bill, isn't he?" Mrs. Finacklepan looked peeved as the elderly man pushed past her, his walking stick banging her ankle. "Ouch!"
"Bit of a bill?" asked Mrs. Pherionworth. She was older than Mrs. Finacklepan but prided herself on looking younger.
"Yes, didn't you see him charging past? Anyone would think he was being chased by a hellhound!"
"No dear, I didn't get the reference to a bill. Did you mean he owes you money?"
Mrs. Finacklepan got the smug look of a woman who thinks she knows more than her companions. "Bit of Bill," she said. "Bill Murray, hurry. It's rhyming slang, you know."
"Oh." Mrs. Pherionworth thought for a moment, unaware than she scrunched her face up like Mr. Punch when she did. "I thought that was a curry."
"That's a Ruby," said Mrs. Finacklepan, smugness now radiating a foot from her body. "Bit of a Bill is a hurry."
"Well," said Mrs. Pherionworth with gravitas in her tone, "it all seems a bit King to me."
Greg - this is actually the time of year when hail threatens the most around here. Combination of still cold air and nasty precipitation I guess.
Oh yes, my last line was a terrible pain to concoct. I had to give up and use the inversion as I couldn't find another way to make it work.
Rhyming slang always throws me for a loop. I think you've captured that feeling quite nicely here :)
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