Hosted again by the lovely Enbrethiliel over at Shredded Cheddar. Go read the rest of the entries here. She wondered if I could write something that wasn't musical. Since I never thought what I wrote was musical in the first place, I don't know if it's even possible for me to oblige. It must be something about the way language works in my ear.
I can say, though, that this post is at least musically inspired. There were a couple of directions I could have gone with my prompts. I've been a little sober in my poetry, lately, and that is the easiest path to take. There was also the possibility of some political allegory, but I spout my opinions enough in other venues. Poetry should be about beauty, not politics.
At the risk of prejudicing your reading, I'll post the two songs that I've got in mind as I write this
And now, enough putzing about.
Question: What are we having for dinner?
Heavy knocking on the doors
One final glance all round the house
Chairs in order, lamps all lit
Stew singing songs to the goose on the spit
And her husband has thrown out the mouse
Brush the skirt, fix the hair
Glance at the man in the old rocking chair
Beaming with pride, flushed with delight
Blush at his smile as he lights up his pipe
And open the door to the guests in the night