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Queen

Day 25: " write your own poem in which you use at least three metaphors for a single thing, include an exclamation, ruminate on the definition of a word, and come back in the closing line to the image or idea with which you opened the poem." Crikey! That's a long list of things to include...  I've just had a WhatsApp exchange with my daughter, in which we used lots of photos, emoji and gifs to basically say we love each other, through thick and thin.  Queen Our love is elastic, stretching across the gap Between where you stand t aking hesitant selfies To where I'm looking for the light in your sunshaded eyes .  You caveat each exchange with a head-in-hands monkey,  Laughing emoji, apologetic humility, As if you aren't a queen, s tanding there i n your jeans and t shirt!   Cast off your definition of ideal beauty, Know it is a shackle, a tool designed to make us fail; We have no need to apologise for the space we inhabit. My penguin gushes tears as it claps ...
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Night shades

Day 24: " write a poem that takes place at night, and describes something magical or strange that happens but that no one is awake (or around) to notice." Today I am tempted to write a bit of light fantastical nonsense, a flight of fancy. It feels like it could be the beginning of a longer piece.  Night shades At night the shadows flit, Silently occupying the spaces  Filled during daylight hours With human noise and busyness.  The shades float, balletic, soundless,  Testing the shape of each room,  Reclaiming their space like black dye in water, Ready to dissipate at the sound of a footfall,  The first glimmer of dawn.   © Copyright 2026. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved
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First things first

Day 23: " today’s (optional) prompt takes its inspiration from Kiki Petrosino’s loose villanelle, “ Nursery. ” Try your hand today at your own take on a  villanelle , and have the poem end on a question." Now,  I  rather like a villanelle,  but it is very tricky.   For those of you who are asking yourself WHAT??? the villanelle is a French verse form consisting of five three-line stanzas and a final quatrain, with the first and third lines of the first stanza repeating alternately in the following stanzas. These two refrain lines form the final couplet in the quatrain. In addition, there is a regular rhyme scheme of aba.  First things first The clothes rotate in the washing machine,  There's dirt on the floor, dishes in the sink, I know everything needs to get clean.  It's in the worst state it ever has been Creeping up slowly, it's now at the brink,  So clothes rotate in the washing machine. I'm preoccupied, have turned my back on rout...
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Wise Monkey

Day 22: " write your own poem in which the speaker is in dialogue with him or herself.  Jaswinder Bolina’s poem “ Mood Ring ” imagines the speaker as both himself and an interior being (who happens to take the form of a small donkey). It’s quite silly . . . and not silly at the same time. A sort of “serious fun.” " I don't have a donkey inside me - small or otherwise - but I've written a few times of having an inner dialogue between conflicting sides of myself. Perhaps it might help to think of having something separate trying to help me break out of my set ways? Wise Monkey Monkey waited for his chance Impatient for some fun.  You're really boring nowadays,  Old age has near begun.  Life used to be quite crazy You'd be flitting here and there,  But now you seem forever Rooted in that chair.  Get up, get out, just shake yourself, You've lost the zest of youth.  Offended, I protested,  But saw he spoke some truth.  Get going or you'll lose the...
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Secret names

Day 21: " In her poem, “ Names and Nicknames ,” Monika Kumar reminisces over various nicknames she has been given, the actual name her mother gave her, and the way both names and nicknames indicate a claim and an intimacy at once. In your poem for today, we challenge you to write your own poem in which you muse on your name and nicknames you’ve been given." Strangely I had a conversation about nicknames 2 days ago with my granddaughter. She was telling me about the nicknames her friends have been given,  but she doesn't have one.  Just like her I never had a nickname as a child, and it was always rather a disappointment.  Secret names Our given names come from our parents,  But the name most treasured comes from friends,  Our secret name, our special name,  Shared only by those in the know.  At school, we pondered long and hard,  Tried out suggestions for size,  Rolled them around our mouths until they fit,  Or didn't.   Throug...
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Phoenix

Day 20: " try writing your own poem that uses an animal that shows up in myths and legends as a metaphor for some aspect of a contemporary person’s life. Include one spoken phrase." This poem is for anyone who has transformed a tired way of life as a result of a determined decision.  But for one person in particular.   Phoenix She rises, dusts off the ashes of her last incarnation, Surprised by her unfamiliar framed reflection,  Stretches wings s hining with the golden glow  Of new feathers hesistantly tried on for size. The dull weight of old aches transformed Into newfound crackling energy, Possibility draws her forward, Her old self left far behind.  You always were a drama queen.  © Copyright 2026. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved
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Florilegium

Day 19: " In her poem, “ Florilegium ,” Canadian poet Sylvia Legris gathers together many five-lined stanzas that describe flowers but also play with the sounds of their names, their medical (or poisonous) qualities, and historical aspects of herbalism. Today, pick a flower or two (or a whole bouquet, if you like) from this online edition of Kate Greenaway’s  Language of Flowers . Now, write your own poem in which you muse on your selections’ names and meanings." I've picked my favourite (the daffodil),  my daughter's (the rose), and my  mum's (the freesia).  Like us, they wouldn't make a coherent bouquet, but singly they are all rather special. Legris doesn't name the flowers in her verses and I've followed suit, hoping their identity is obvious from the description.  As an additional clue each verse begins with the first two letters of each flower.  Dancing in the breeze, faces demurely lowered, Pure unadulterated joy in a swathe of sunlit gold,  A s...
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