Thursday, 4 November 2010

Sloth’s Door (By Patsy and Me)

Didn't we have a lov-er-ly day, the day we went cre-ate-ive!

Patsy poodled along to Poole, last Saturday to join me in a series of "Dorset Delights" and "Writing for the Screen" talks and workshops at the town's Lit Fest. Of course prolific Patsy shined, proving that writing every day does account fer summit, and her eye fer detail scooped the biggest piece of Dorset Apple Cake I'd ever seen!

An offer of Marmite chocolate, believe it or not, lured us into a writer's talk. A real eye opener, the talk as well as the sweetie treat. Suck it and see, don't swallow or munch, as the mingling of flavours do separate, if left to melt on the tongue.

Anyway, enough of me connoisseur challenges, here's a little collaborative piece of Ping-Pong-Poetry, by Patsy and Me!

Patsy went out to Poole

To meet a silly fool

For chockie bites and cake

And poetry to make

Shakespeare played live

From dawn until five

Book signing galore

From a literary whore

Was it play or work?

JJ asked with a smirk

Patsy grinned, it’s both

Just then a big sloth

Crept along the floor

And slammed the door

No editing just Patsy and me in the raw. But if you wanna know more about Ping Pong Poetry:


  1. Didn't we do well? (a polite nod is what's required here - not the truth!)

    I'll post up our other effort as soon as I find it.

  2. Sounds like you two had a lot of fun. OK, ping your pong at this...

    One day I ate a nice orange

  3. It squirted juice onto my fringe (pronounce it right and it almost works)

    Here's one for you to continue ...

    Which was dyed a tasteful purple

  4. Ha, ha, ha, ha, HA! Get yerself outta that, Valance!

  5. Which was dyed a tasteful purple

    Similar to a ninja turtle

    Triple whammy "Gotcha" both, me finks... Ha! Weebles wobble and they can fall down, ha, ha, ha, he-hephe-he, ha, ha HA!

  6. Howzat for a non-poet?

    Time for bed said Leonardo, Donatello, Michaelangalo and Raphael... Boing...


  7. Purple... turtle?

    Shakes head, wanders away... disconsolate.

  8. Never mind, Valance. I wa sthinking about the club all the lads went to... The Purple Turtle. Had dancing gals an' all!