Day the twenty-sixth

Today the prompt is to answer a list of categories and use the answers for a poem. I have a short attention span and the first category is weather - so - rain.


Chorley Market

Today is a Chorley Market sort of day
A buying faggots sort of day
A buying biscuits sort of day
A buying second hand biscuits sort of day
A buying fabric sort of day
A buying black pudding sort of day
A buying cheese sort of day.

Today is a Chorley Market sort of day
Where the puddles are congregating
Where the cars are lined up in by the station
Where the queues have umbrellas
Where the buses hiss and splash
Where the cafe windows are steamed up
Where the rain drips down your neck.

Yes, today is a Chorley Market sort of day.

Day the seventeenth

Today the prompt is 'forgotten technology' and doggerel wins the day. My thanks to Ivan Drever for recording the album that came to a sticky end!

I've ne're forgotten

Today I have to tell you a tale of loss and woe,
A rainy day's tale of deep disaster
So sad a tale, as sad as these things go,
A tale to cause real tears (although of laughter!)

I was cooking in the kitchen as I often did
Baking cakes to bring us pleasure and much joy.
I had music in there with me, a necessary aid
For music helps to further every ploy.



I had a tin of treacle, and I needed just one spoon
But it was set and hard as iron in the tin
So in order to make it softer, and do it very soon,
To the nice hot waiting oven it went in.

I waited for ten minutes, to get it nice and warm,
And while waiting changed cassettes, as you do.
Never thinking that the heat would do me any harm
It would simply make the tinful less like glue!




I'd put the tape down on the side, to wait till I was done,
And grabbed a towel to keep my hands from burning,
But the towel was wet and I dropped that tin
And hot treacle is runny as I was learning . . .

I dowsed the tape and stood on its case
My legs were all sticky and spattered
The tape was a goner, I'd need to replace,
And as for the case it was battered!

So the end of this tale, I am sad to relate,
Was one dead cassette and not even one cake!

Day the ninth

Today the challenge is a concrete poem, where the physical shape reflects the subject, or tries to!

Dripping


when
it is
raining
the
water
runs off
my hat
and
drips
into
my boots.