An Ode To The Humble Prompt

The net is a world wide web wonder

Where many fine stories are born

Not to mention the sparks of ideas

In amongst all the HD-shot porn


Imagine you’ve landed on Saturn

Prompts a site with a sciencey slant

Your oxygen’s low, and your heart rate is slow

and your co-pilot’s cat is your aunt

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In A Long Line Of Cars

I spy with my little eye something beginning with…

How’s that going to work? You’re stuck in traffic all alone, dimwit. You need at least one additional person for a satisfactory game of I-Spy. Preferably someone older than two unless you want another round of I spy with my little eye something beginning with…tree. At least five year olds make it interesting by spying things you can’t actually see.

“…beginning with…C!”

“Cricket bat?”


“Cricket ball?”


“Cricket stadium.”



“No dad! You can’t see chlorine when we’re swimming.”

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How The Woodstock Dragon Saved Christmas

A little bit of Christmas fun from two years ago. There might be a sequel this year, you never know…


Up on the mountain near Woodstock’s dark cave

A few jumps to the left if you’re young and you’re brave

Is a lesser known place, a less obvious space

Where the odd buck or goat disappears without trace


Inside is a creature who’d give you a fright

His body is red and his eyes black as night

His snout shoots out smoke…

…and his roar is no joke

He’s Dai the Red Dragon (well known to Welsh folk)

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Cinquain Santa

In three weeks time it will be Christmas day.

This means I have twenty-one days to summon up some Christmas cheer and get into the spirit of things.

It’s a tough ask.

Perhaps I should use my first faltering step into the not-covered-by-haiku world of poetry to highlight the particular Christmas issue I face.

Ladies and gentleman, may I present Santa: A Cinquain.


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