Tongues & Grooves Portsmouth #WritingChallenge3

Maggie Sawkins, who leads local poetry and creative group Tongues & Grooves has unleashed a local #writingchallenge and they kindly let us publish the responses. This week’s challenge is to write a poem of 14 lines in which every line ends with the same word. That’s it.



By Maggie Sawkins

There’s something about a picaroon

that makes you swoon for a picaroon,

but before you fall for a picaroon,

beware! for the faults of a picaroon

far outweigh the charms of a picaroon.

The wit and wiliness of one picaroon

is often admired by another picaroon.

They may offer you the moon, the picaroon,

but you’ll live in the shade of a picaroon

marooned on a shipwreck named Picaroon,

on an island plundered by a picaroon.

Pick anything you like but a picaroon.


By Amanda Garrie

Our bodies are, on average sixty percent water:

to sustain it we drink water,

we wash in water,

and swim in water;

we cry tears of sea water,

our brains flood with glyal water,

we pee toxins away with water;

we came from the water,

we belong in the water,

we long for the water,

sing songs of the water;

can’t live without water,

are husks without water,

will die without water.


This Space

By Stacey Leanne Appleton

Once, a dishevelled and uncared for space

Not a loved space.

Not full of grandeur space

Not a forest dense space

Or an open skies wide space

Or an oceans vast space

Not even a valleys green space

Suddenly, becomes a haven space

Walled as if a castle space.

Protecting life space

Protecting hope space

Protecting dreams space

Our touch with the world space

A sanctuary space

Strange how we are dictated by our surrounding space.

I am forever grateful for this small space.


By Marie Monro

This idea stemmed from something I discovered the other day that in Japan they apparently don’t have the equivalent to our vague ‘ish’ adjective!?

So here’s A Poem (ish!)

A funny-ish, hairy-ish Cornish

Pixie, behaving slightly Impish

Uttering total jibberish

Acting completely foolish

Trying to relinquish anguish

for not being… cool-ish

Wants to be more Devilish

Not girlish English Elfish

More Irish Leprechaunish

Hair all sunshine yellowish

Mopish, slightly foppish

Looking sort of hottish

Not baboonish, nor scampish

Cuter, kinda Dwarfish


The Co-ordinator

By Sue Attridge

I think I need a co-ordinator

Now, I need a co-ordinator

I see a new side to my co-ordinator

Shamed to need a co-ordinator

When you’re all at sea, co-ordinator

I creep around my co-coordinator

May bite off my head my co-ordinator

But seems endless patience has my co-ordinator

Astonished by my little co-ordinator

Hot shots would pay top dollar for my co-ordinator

When l’m all at sea, my co-ordinator

Who keeps an eye on me? My co-ordinator.


By Lesley Carr

I thought I heard a cry.

What was it, that cry?

Maybe the cry

Of a gull, the cry

Of a mongrel, or cry

Of a child? The cry

Echoed round me, cry

Cry, cry, cry, cry.

Why is it that cry

Haunts me, unknown cry

In airless night; cry

Carrying fear, or cry

Of excitement? Cry

Cry, cry


You can take part in the regular Tongues & Grooves #WritingChallenge over on their Facebook page and check out their website and Twitter, too.

Image by 4772818 from Pixabay


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