Friday, 6 February 2015

We Followed a Map

It seems that Friday adventures have become a tradition for George and I over the recent weeks. On a Friday morning I have poetry class and today we were all about the Sonnets. Don't get me wrong, Sonnets are all wonderful if you're madly infatuated or William Shakespeare, but the best part of today's lesson was scuttling together as a group to workshop our 'masterpieces' that we had been set the task of creating the week before. Needless to say, nobody was particularly thrilled with their Sonnet baby. One person even went on to write a Sonnet that openly mocked all Sonnets ever written and that was my favourite. My contribution was hurriedly scrawled at 8 am this morning onto some scrap paper. I had been tearing my hair out all week about what to write about and when I looked out of the attic this morning over the stooping chimney stacks I thought 'Bugger it, a Sonnet about Chimney Pots it is then!'. The ending result was a Sonnet named 'The City of Chimney Pots' and it vaguely follows the musings of an individual who lives on the roof tops of an old city, among the chimneys and has the pigeons and thatchers for friends. They like to watch curiously the lives of the world below but their dream is to escape the city and sleep in a meadow. Yeah. 

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