Yesterday, Kerry O. from the writers' group Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, presented a challenge that threw me for a bit of a loop. She mentioned Little Red Riding Hood, folklorists and cultural anthropologists, solar myths and other naturally-occurring cycles, as well as Norse mythology.Then she suggested we (anyone who would like to submit something in response to yesterday's challenge) explore the theme of the predator, either real or imagined, within the lines of a poem.
I couldn't imagine imagining any such thing. However, I woke up this morning with (would you believe?) a limerick in my head. I swear the last time I woke up with a limerick in my head was 40 years ago and it was about drunken Irishmen.
|Photos of Blue Jeans Frogs|
by Richard Schear, Costa Rica, Dec. 2007
© Kay Davies and Richard Schear
There once was a wolf who ate toads
The toads were a treat for his nodes
He liked to smell ’em
Then he would tell ’em
“You’re lunch, before I hit the roads.”
“Please, Mr. Wolf, please don’t eat us,
“For that is no way to treat us
“We’re small and we’re cute
“And really don’t suit
“Lunch or a snack without peanuts.”
“Roar,” said the wolf as he growled
“Your argument wins, but you fouled
“Cause peanuts don’t grow
“In these woods, you know.”
Defeated, the big bad wolf howled.
Click to see how this suggestion inspired serious writers who are members, followers, contributors or visitors at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.