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Writing fun

posted 17 Jul 2017, 05:05 by Fran Brady
This is the kind of thing that turns writers on: take a word, any word; write it longways down the side of. page; now think up a noun, verb, adjective and adverb beginning with each letter and create a grid of words. 

NOW: WRITE A POEM OR PROSE PIECE/SHORT STORY USING EACH WORD IN TURN. 
Like this:

NOUN                          VERB                           ADJECTIVE                 ADVERB

MADNESS                    MEANDER                   MISTY                          MEANINGFULLY

INDIGO                         IDOLISE                       IDEAL                          INDOLENTLY  

DELIGHT                      DESPAIR                      DUSTY                         DARINGLY

SOLSTICE                    SOOTHE                       SINGLE                         SORROWFULLY

UNDERWORLD             UPROOT                     UPPER                          UNDERSTANDABLY

MISGIVING                   MOLLIFY                    MILD                            MURKILY

MORTIFICATION          MOULD                      MUTINOUS                  MOISTLY

ENDEAVOUR                EXPLAIN                    ELEPHANTINE             ELEGANTLY

RELATIVITY                 ROUSE                        RUSTY                           RIGHTFULLY

 

 MIDSUMMER

If Madness chose to meander

Down the path of misty years

She’d never say a word that would

Fall meaningfully on the ears

 

If Indigo chose to idolise

Plato’s pure ideal

She’d sadly sit at Socrates’ feet

Indolently scorning what’s real

 

If  Delight ignored the despair

That lurks in dusty cloisters

She’d waltz through life oblivious

And daringly live on oysters

 

If Solstice did not soothe

With a single sunlit dawn

She’d never save us from ourselves

We’d be sorrowfully gone

 

If Underworld knew how to uproot

Death’s powerful upper hand

She’d take out a patent to protect

An understandably precious brand

 

If Misgiving could not mollify

That doubt, though mild and small,

She’d surely lose the battle and

Crawl murkily under a knoll

 

If Mortification tried to mould

That mutinous streak so cranky

She’d be left to lick her wounds

And sniff moistly into her hankie

 

If Endeavour could not explain

Her elephantine ego

She’d never find a spouse to wed

Even elegantly in Rio

 

If Relativity chose to rouse

Einstein’s rusty old theory

She’d be turning happy cartwheels

And be rightfully tapsulteerie 

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