Tuesday 9 February 2010

And now for something completely different. This is a poetic challenge from Robert Lee Brewer - essentially to write a sestina using 6 favourite obscure or at least less common words. Now being a total dunce at this and never having attempted a sestina before I made a fundemental error - I thought the end words of the lines had to be rotated in order. I didn't realise they had to be rotated in a different order, despite rather clear instructions :) So having finished it I realised I had done it wrong however, I have grown rather fond of my Monster and Gargoyle so I've left it as it is. I will however have another go tomorrow using different words and the correct rotation order!

Chortle , Gargoyle , Hullabaloo, Portmanteau, pomegranate, countenance

Stanza 1
You know what makes me chortle?
Said the monster to the Gargoyle
when I jump out of a portmanteau
and my victims make a hullabaloo
One swallowed whole, a pomegranate
Turning puce in her fair countenance.

Stanza 2
The other would not countenance
this; cruelty did not make him chortle
- his was a noble race, The Gargoyle
lofty towers, not cheap portmanteau
Silent watching, not raucous hullabaloo
And no choking on pomegranate.

Stanza 3
She could have choked on that pomegranate
He said with a stern countenance.
While you indulged in your chortle
Why can’t you be more like a gargoyle?
As it is she packed your portmanteau
You’ve lost your place for that hullabaloo!

Stanza 4
The Monster sniggered. That Hullabaloo
Was worth a dozen strangled pomegranate
eating women, however fair her countenance.
Your problem is you never have a chortle.
You don’t know how to live, Gargoyle.
So what if all I have is my portmanteau?

Stanza 5
If you are happy living out of a portmanteau
Then by all means, enjoy the result of your hullabaloo
You’ll never find another girl to feed you pomegranates
Or who will love your ugly countenance
But you’ll have had a good old chortle.
Thus spake the wise old, cool headed Gargoyle

Stanza 6
The monster looked at his friend, the Gargoyle.
He scratched the worn leather of his portmanteau
He was a monster, his business was hullabaloos
It seemed hard that his nature lost him pomegranates
And soft words and kind hands and pretty countenance.
And yet, he could not have stifled that fateful chortle.

Stanza 7
Monster sighed -Gargoyle, I did not mean to chortle
. but jumping out of portmanteau and causing a hullabaloo
Is more to me than sweet pomegranates and fair countenance.


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