A new little ditty that came to me last night...
I spilt some piccalilli by Piccadilly
and felt quite silly
for a second,
before clarity beckoned
as I wiped the yellow stain
from my car window pane
and sighed a sudden sigh of relief
and thought to myself in vain.
This is the last time I eat sandwiches whilst driving...
Piccalilli stains
Hello courage my boy.
You obviously posted this for comment.
If the piccalilli stained the window, it could not have been spilt - more likely splashed.
I didn't get the placement of the word vain in the penultimate line - it didn't make sense.
The last line is pretty bad - I'm sure you can do better.
This reminds me of a nursery rhyme, given that it is so simplistic - like the man going to St Ives.
Some will hate it, some will like it; many will ignore it...
I'm between yuk and yipee.
J.
You obviously posted this for comment.
If the piccalilli stained the window, it could not have been spilt - more likely splashed.
I didn't get the placement of the word vain in the penultimate line - it didn't make sense.
The last line is pretty bad - I'm sure you can do better.
This reminds me of a nursery rhyme, given that it is so simplistic - like the man going to St Ives.
Some will hate it, some will like it; many will ignore it...
I'm between yuk and yipee.
J.
Before you shave with Occam’s razor - Try epilation or microlaser
dear courage -my-boy
do not worry about what john says he is knocking at every door closed to him.
your poem is a little over done in terms of rhyme;
while the poem is clear, in what you want the reader to notice;
house your rhymes for awhile, read Wordsworth, John Donne;
if you want to see someone who shoots themselves in the foot have a look at johns first poems;
keep going gavin
do not worry about what john says he is knocking at every door closed to him.
your poem is a little over done in terms of rhyme;
while the poem is clear, in what you want the reader to notice;
house your rhymes for awhile, read Wordsworth, John Donne;
if you want to see someone who shoots themselves in the foot have a look at johns first poems;
keep going gavin