Hankering for Rum
The first pirate was a banker,
But for rum he would hanker,
He bought a boat with no anchor,
He was a bit of a…
Across the waves he could zip,
In his almighty ship,
In search of a chum,
Who had plenty of rum,
But he was so dumb,
So all he did was sit,
And think about it,
Because he didn’t know…
He’s no pirate, he’s just bluffing.
In response to the sixteenth “skeltonic verse” prompt from NaPoWriMo.net
All it takes is one little word,
To crop up in conversation,
And suddenly my mother believes,
That she is a singing sensation.
But! She sings several octaves higher,
Than the artist of the song,
In a barely recognisable tune,
Plus, the lyrics are always wrong.
Well it didn’t take long at all
Before I would break into a song!
Luckily I know my lyrics,
So at least I don’t get those wrong.
Mother sings often,
Spirit as high as her key!
It is contagious.
In response to the fifteenth “bad habits” prompt from NaPoWriMo.net
Tanka to Santa
Santa, you forgot!
I woke so eager, to find
A present missing.
Every wish granted except
The return of my lost dog.
Rachael, be grateful!
Santa is a busy man.
He had not the time.
We don’t find, we make, besides,
His sleigh can’t hold livestock! Elf.
In response to the eleventh “exchange of letters” prompt from NaPoWriMo.net
A Cat’s To Do List
I must remember to wake my human,
Before I bumble downstairs.
I prod her face, with my gentle paw,
And purr until she cares.
When I hear her footsteps,
Along the staircase,
It’s time to wiggle my rear, jump off the bed,
And then begin the race.
I always beat her to the door,
But I must remember my belly.
So I will rush to my bowl, in the kitchen,
And demand the food most smelly.
After chasing the birds, I must not forget,
When it’s time to come inside.
I must cause a raucous, with my yowl,
But this damages my pride.
So when my human opens the door,
Her patience I must test.
I stretch, I lick, then I strut inside.
And at last, I will need a rest.
In response to the ninth “to do list” prompt from NaPoWriMo.net
Based on the antics of Jake, my childhood friend, who blessed my life for sixteen years.
When I sing,
My shower echoes.
Through an autotune salon.
Boosting my e-steam.
In response to the seventh “shadorma or fib” prompt from NaPoWriMo.net, which I’m sure said to include a pun… maybe… Okay sorry for the pun.
I chose the Shadorma because even though the Fib is a beautiful mathematical and natural sequence (combining two of my passions), I really liked the sound of the syllable sequence of the Shadorma.
They said he was a wise wordsmith,
In with a chance of winning big,
But some questions were hard to twig.
He hadn’t heard of some old myth.
And so he was presented with,
A giant box of styrofoam.
And out he pulled a garden gnome.
Even though it was second prize,
He couldn’t moan about the size,
And couldn’t wait to take him home.
Image credit: pixabay.com
In response to Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge #17 found here