While you are busy disappearing (because you are being eaten alive), I want you to know that I am turning joyful cartwheels (figuratively, of course). What other form could you write this in? A story, perhaps?
I'm I simply the Evil Lady Torcherer? Perhaps. Do I have something in mind here? Most certainly. Work with me here, okay? I'm on my way to my happy place, but I would like you to bang out a short story, using your poem as the skeleton. A one-pager would be fine.
BTW, the voice in my head that has the conversation with your poem is jumping up and down screaming because these four lines bring to mind (and sum up) a good part of a book that I just read, The Life of Pi. Don't worry, it's just a shadow of meaning. LOL.
Maggie, you better be happy. The thought of my limerick not rymeing eats me alive. You can NOT make a limerick that doesn't ryme. HAPPY NOW!
ReplyDeleteMax,
ReplyDeleteWhile you are busy disappearing (because you are being eaten alive), I want you to know that I am turning joyful cartwheels (figuratively, of course). What other form could you write this in? A story, perhaps?
I'm I simply the Evil Lady Torcherer? Perhaps. Do I have something in mind here? Most certainly. Work with me here, okay? I'm on my way to my happy place, but I would like you to bang out a short story, using your poem as the skeleton. A one-pager would be fine.
BTW, the voice in my head that has the conversation with your poem is jumping up and down screaming because these four lines bring to mind (and sum up) a good part of a book that I just read, The Life of Pi. Don't worry, it's just a shadow of meaning. LOL.
CheeryO,
Maggie (aka, ELT)