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 The second of my collections of poems written for "Express It In Eight." |
| As usual these days, I choose blog format because it offers more space for the work. |
| Pieces of Eight I have two collections one bulging and full with poems and connections to the number eight all one thousand of them at the instigation of Solace, our challenge gem and inspiration. A thousand is the max allowed for blog format hence my second packs a mere three hundred and all in honour of our leader now abed in hospital I whisper soft Get well soon Solace! Line count: 16 Rhymed abac For Express It In Eight, 06.05.25 Prompted by Sung’manitu’s offering. |
| Punch and Judy Show Oh, don’t point your finger - I’m really not to blame, and, if doubts should linger, just look beyond the game. A puppet show’s the truth, and see who pulls the strings - the man behind the booth, he causes all these things. Line count: 8 Rhymed abab For Express It In Eight, 06.03.25 Prompt: Write a poem about using strings. |
| SUNDAY, 06.01.25 Gravity Defied Oh, mister Daddy Longlegs, eight spindly legs akimbo, wavering in indecision, undecided where to go, do you dream of lazy cobwebs dangling from a darkened ceiling, and will you skitter on the wall, to leave the ladies all a-reeling? Line count: 8 Rhymed abcb For Express It In Eight, 06.01.25 Prompt: Write a gangly poem. |
| Amelia Earhart We still think of her, you know, her disappearance a heck of a blow - lost forever in the mighty Pacific, and a legend that’s quite magnific. A skeleton on little Nikumaroro (less populated than ancient Bordeaux) might be hers and some think it’s so, but the truth we’ll not ever know. Line count: 8 Rhymed aabb (well, you try finding a rhyme for Nikumaroro) For Express It In Eight, 05.30.25 Prompt: Write a poem about someone who got lost. |
| Dream High on the mountain crag Eponymus the wayward sheep surveys the crumbling plain the sunset green and void. I’ll dine with you tonight I said amid dreams of silverware and nostrils twitching wide with the taste of mutton and mint. Line count: 8 Free verse For Express It In Eight, 05.28.25 Prompt: Write a surreal poem. |
| Medicine Cod liver oil, your day was sure to spoil - my mother and a spoon, tastebuds to swoon. Intended as a tonic, taste reputed chronic, I never got it right, the stuff was my delight! Line count: 8 Rhymed aabb For Express It In Eight, 05.27.25 Prompt: Taste of your own medicine. |
| Pluto There from my distance far cast from the planet’s club for being the smallest star I receive the grandest snub And do I not in mighty loop circle the father of us all clear the dust with gravity’s scoop reflect the light in darkest pall? Line count: 8 Rhymed abab For Express It In Eight, 05.26.25 Prompt: Write a “going round in circles” poem. |
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