Once upon a yucky time lived a grubbly gringly monster groo
He jiggled in the midnight sun
and feasted on wibbly bungaroos
He gribbled beyond the wobbly fronds and bumbled in the forest froo
He wimbled with the flowersong
and with the frimbles flew.
Once upon an ugly time when gringle monsters knew
That clovely bubbly mischief makers
Made life worth living true.
© Alison Jean Hankinson
For d’Verse poetics.
Nothing says grace like a swan
But I don’t have a picture of a swan
So here is a poem about a duck.
Waddling through the grass
Wiggling my feathery ass
Who says I am an ugly duck
Quack-Quacking noisily as I go
Waddling my ass to and fro
Falling over like a dis-graceful duck
I take to the air in flight
I flap flap with all my might
Gliding over skylights I cluck
The breeze sets me disgracefully free
Soon other disgraceful ducks join with me
As we fly in formation how beautiful we look…….
©Alison Jean Hankinson
Quack Quack. Honk Honk. Happy New Year…..
For d’Verse….
Bright blue wellington boots
Splashing through the stream
Autumn leaves surrender
Children’s faces gleam.
Splishing through the water
Matching coats and hats
Sunday forest fun-day,
Walking wet and muddy tracks.
Collecting up prickly conkers
Sycamore whizzers and pine cones
Autumn’s children’s playground
Before winter chills their bones.
© Alison Jean Hankinson
This is for d’Verse where we were asked to think about shoes. Mine became wellington boots.
Image labelled for reuse-
Every autumn in the UK the fruit of the horse chestnut is gathered by children in order to play the age old game of “conkers”. (U.S. Air Force photo/Judith Wakelam)
Is this seat taken?
I do hope not, it is such a long journey when you have to stand.
I was going to catch the earlier train but there was an accident on the M62.
Can I just squeeze past to put my bag on the rack, and then I’ll be out of your way,
I know how irritating it can be when people expect you to move.
Are you going to London too?
I do hope so.
It can be such good fun when you have company on a long and busy train journey.
You can get to know someone really well in such a short space of time…
Has the refreshment trolley been?
I do hope not, I was running late and didn’t get chance to get a bottle of water at the station.
Are you on facebook?
I do hope so…then I can add you as a friend….
In response to the Daily prompt. HOPE…please accept with goodwill….by the way I always come equipped with way too many bags…..and can never find my ticket…
In my youth I worked at Piccadilly train station, as a Barista in the days before they were called Baristas……
Going out to dinner
Romantic you and me
I forgot my wallet
Hurry let us flee.
Image- Wikimedia- Portpatrick- Photographer Arnold Price.
Sorry it probably isn’t the slightest bit poetic. We accidentally did this not once but twice in the same pub/restaurant…
It was New Year’s Eve and a group of us would brave the weather to travel to a tiny place called Portpatrick to experience a real Hogmany. We would arrive and were usually relatively “not sober” by dinner time and wandered around the few pubs and eating establishments rather merrily……my husband and I always ate our evening meal in the same hilltop restaurant on NYE, the first year we accidentally left without paying drunken and happy beneath the stars- we went back and paid later in the stay. The second year we were jovially recounting our tale-drunk as skunks in the harbourside bar when we suddenly realised we had done it again. We did return to pay the next day.
Hues of Hankinson 