Saturday June 20th, 2015

The exercise:

Write a four line poem about: bad habits.

The strawberries were sold to fellow vendors before the market opened this morning. The raspberries eventually sold out as well. As did the peas (the shelling peas disappeared in the blink of an eye, while the last bag of snow peas sat on the table for a long, long time). Sold four (I think) of my greeting cards. The cherries sold steadily throughout the day, but we fell about half a crate shy of selling out.

Which still made for a very good market.

Now I am pretty much exhausted and ready for a day off.


Writing, reading, working,
There are deadlines to keep;
But then before you know it,
I've fallen asleep...


Greg said...

Nearly selling everything inspired a prompt of 'bad habits'? We must have a different idea of how to measure success ;-)
Hah, I really like the poem, especially with the sudden change of rhythm there at the end, perfectly fitting the author's claim!

Bad habits
They were all monks and she was their laundress,
And their habits were washed white as snow.
But she got corrupted and their habits went bad,
The laundress was told to go.

Anonymous said...

Marc, your bad habit seems to be my bad habit, haha. Sleep is far too important to me, even though there are things (cough school cough) that should trump it.

Greg, I'm curious what kind of corruption you speak of. Is this the dreaded red sock finding it's way into the whites again? Poor laundress. But then again, the monks could have picked a different color for their attire; a color that would stay longer. Also, nice pun with the prompt. Bravo!

Bad Habits:

Whenever I have time to write,
I can never bring myself to do it.
Why must I only break free when I
Have mountains of work to do?

Marc said...

Greg - I've been falling asleep on the couch while attempting to do the blog far too often recently. I had hoped writing about it might change my habits but... yeah, no.

Nice twist on the prompt. I am left hoping that your monks now wear pink robes...

Ivy - sleep is rather... insistent, it seems to me. Speaking of which, I should probably go get some after this reply. Slowly, slowly catching up on comments...

Heh, I can relate to this one all too well. A summer full of farming work to be done? Ooh, sounds like a fine time to come up with an idea for my next novel!