The exercise:
Okay, second charity story done. You can now check out The Gallery, my work for Greg. Two down, three to go!
Greg really pushed the limits of my generosity with his 'three' words but... it was a temptation I could not resist. If you haven't been keeping up with Tagged this story won't make a whole heck of a lot of sense, but feel free to try to enjoy it anyway :)
To prevent any further malarkey, and since this prompt would be useless for all you non-Tagged followers, pick any three words of the six provided.
*sighs heavily*
Here you go: Red Five First Date Emma B (sent in as Red5 first-date EmmaB... the cheek!)
Mine:
Red First Date
Red's first date with Green was a festive occasion,
Jingle Bells topped music charts across the nation.
The night did go alright, things were pretty okay,
Until a fat man came at midnight and stole Green away.
Red's first date with the militant twins White and Blue
Was a bright celebration of dreams coming true.
Fireworks went off, it was an explosive affair,
But things were cut short when one landed in Blue's hair.
Red's first date with Black was but the first of many;
They went together just like nineteen and twenty.
Each day they always complimented each other;
T'was no wonder really - they had the same mother!
In my defence, Red5 and EmmaB are tags, they sign themselves as that in Tagged.... I did think for a long time to see if I could get it into three unarguable words, but I failed. Still, the story you wrote was fantastic!
ReplyDeleteI like the poem too, especially the little twist in the last line!
First Red Emma
Once, in ancient Vashurashvili,
In a palace on a hill near the sky,
A woman waged war because she chilly,
And her soldiers never asked why.
She ordered them out to the plains to fight,
She ordered them back to defend,
She woke them at dawn to war through the night,
She killed her treacherous friend.
For eighty long years she engaged in battle,
Until finally everyone tired,
She'd treated her soldiers like so many cattle,
Whether recruited, conscripted or hired.
They called her First Red Emma,
And built a statue to honour her name,
She was buried in snow, chilly forever,
But certain she'd achieved her fame.
In my defence, Red Five does no such thing :P
ReplyDeleteAnyway - I'm glad you liked what I came up with :)
I like the 'epic saga' feel of your poem. I'd call it a ballad but I'm not 100% certain on the definition and I'm too lazy to look it up at the moment :)