In a damp, bluesy club in the middle of the reeds
Two amphibious musicians gathered in the weeds
Stringed instruments of driftwood and canary grass
Played with webbed fingers and a dash of southern sass
Two of them will face off to see who would headline
Swamp juice and flies aplenty and the music is divine
Marsh creatures waiting, having a drink on mossy log
While they watched the marsh house band, Bulrush Bog
Tadpoles grooving in the water, afraid of the limelight
Since they are literally spineless, some likely stage fright
Beavers gnawing on wood, carving out a double bass
Muskrats drumming cattails at Animal’s Muppet pace
The music now quiets with the sun as the light goes dim
Fireflies set the mood, drinks filled, lake foam to the brim
Two finalists take stage, Marsh music battle is to start
Yet… they sounded the same, you couldn’t tell them apart
So how do you decide which musical act will take the win
When it’s a toad with a fiddle versus a frog with a violin?
January 23, 2023
The Fiddler and the Frog Contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Categories:
finalists, animal, fun, music,
Form: Rhyme
Twas the semi final
Coming to its end,
Three all male finalists
Bucking previous trend.
When told she was leaving
She'd stoically played her part.
Deep down she was seething
With murder in her heart.
One great yell of Banzai
One contestant dead
Felled by a heavy frying pan
Smacked across the head.
The first one down and,
With, her anger still unsated
She hid inside the grounds
And patiently waited,
Vowed to herself
She wouldn't budge
Until she'd killed
At least one judge.
The bearded bloke
Him for a start.
He'd been sarky about
Her Bakewell Tart.
Had a soggy bottom
The bastard had said.
Well he didn't laugh then
As she stabbed him dead.
The very thought
Making her merry,
She planned the demise
Of judge Mary Berry.
She laughed so much
At her planned joke
She went and had
A fatal stroke.
They covered the deaths
With a bunch of lies
And continued on
To present the prize.
For it's the baking that matters
And the tension is so thrilling
And it's not so very often,
After all, it ends up in a killing
Oh it's full of verve and passion,
You can sense the tempers rise
As they all scheme and vie for
That British Bake Off First prize.
Categories:
finalists, anger, anxiety, food, hope,
Form: Rhyme
My day began by watching
As they read the victims’ names,
A somber sad reminder
Of an act that still inflames.
A bell was struck to mark the time
Each tower was attacked
And once again, when each collapsed;
The moment was exact.
Though 20 years have passed, the shock
And sorrow still feel fresh,
Especially for those of us
Who lived it in the flesh.
But time goes on and 4 p.m.
Brought tennis to the screen –
The U.S. Open Women’s match –
The best I’ve ever seen.
The finalists were fierce and kept
On evening the score,
Both desperate for the crown
That neither one had earned before.
The match-up was unusual –
Two teens were on the court,
Infusing such enthusiasm
To this age-old sport.
And so my day began with death -
Still awful in its scope –
But it ended with the future
And the joy of youth and hope.
Categories:
finalists, today,
Form: Rhyme
I’d never heard those words before;
Their meanings were elusive.
To those upon the stage, such facts
Were merely inconclusive.
Derivations made it clear
Which letter groups were needed.
Concentration ruled – distractions
Vanished or receded.
Finalists competed with
Such fierce determination,
Anything but winning
Was a sorry consolation.
Yet gamely each one proved to be
Supportive and connected;
Though rivals, they could empathize
When someone was ejected.
I stayed up past eleven
‘Til the battle was concluded,
Delighting in the quiet joy
The champion exuded.
How wonderful that in this hi-tech
World where we are dwelling,
We still admire those rare souls
Who so excel at spelling!
Ilene Bauer (http://primetimerhyme.blogspot.com)
Categories:
finalists, life
Form: Rhyme
For all you semi finalists, I salute each, one and all. I'd contact each of you,but the
intense pain I'm suffering has kept me from the most basic activities. It is trurely
a struggle just to walk to an adjacent room. No matter who wins, you're all
winners to me. tom
Categories:
finalists, computer-internet, education, friendship, imagination,
Form: I do not know?