Shimmering Dress


<a href=””>Shimmer</a&gt;

It quivers and shimmers
It glimmers and shines
That dress on the model
Oh would it were mine!

I know I’d look slimmer
It would make me much trimmer
I’d feel like a winner
I’d look quite divine.

The colours are gorgeous
Shimmering blue
Shading to turquoise
I adore it, don’t you?

The dress of my dreams
That’s how it will stay
I’ve see the price ticket
That’s half a year’s pay!







Limericks – mostly about writing LImericks

A septuagenarian poet
Said “Well wouldn’t you know it!
With a Limerick set
I’ll offer a bet
My verse is the one that will blow it.”

The way to pen verse that will blend
With the message that you want to send
Is getting line three
And line four to agree
And get a good twist at the end.”

This gets nearest to “how to write a limerick”

Limericks need innuendo
Built up to a final crescendo
Rude meanings implied
Can then be denied
The finale – a double entendre – oh!



Writing Recycled


Ever since I took to a computer and could save and edit my stories and poems I’ve become a fan of re-cycling work. Not that I do it very efficiently or thoroughly or systematically, but I try. I always keep a copy of any story or a poem I submit to a magazine or enter for a competition. When I find the editor doesn’t want it or I haven’t been one of the winners I look over my work, sometimes edit it and then send it out to a different market or enter it for another competition. That at least is the theory.

Doesn’t always work or course. I’ve occasionally found I’ve picked out something as just perfect for a particular comp and only when I’ve started to fill in the entry form do I find it is something I sent to that very contest the year before last!

And I do, really I do, try to keep records of what I’ve written and where it has been sent. But…Some poems especially change their titles, first lines and even the number of lines in the poem. I write something in the first person, all about what I am doing and how I am feeling and then later decide it will sound better as a third-person narrative seen from the outside.

 One question I’ve never been able to answer properly: when does a story become a different story? I mean, suppose I write a romantic tale about a couple called Brenda and Bernard who live in Bristol and then send this piece off to one of the women’s magazine, can I then produce a similar but slightly different story about Mavis and Malcolm from Manchester and submit this as a “new`” piece of work? Just how many details need to be changed to ensure something is a different work?

 Every writer including Shakespeare used ideas and plots that he’d pinched from someone else and adapted and made his own. Is “West Side Story” the musical any the worse for being based on Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet”?