The familiar sense of dread crept over him like the summer fog dragging a wet blanket over the city. As the bell for the last period of the day rang, the usual quivering in his gut began. He gathered his things slowly and carefully. Last to exit the classroom again. The boy knew he was only delaying the inevitable. Sure enough: the bully waited out of sight behind a neighbourhood rubbish bin, springing out as the boy walked by. “What a sissy, you ol’ four-eyes!” the meaty monster began, shoving the boy’s shoulder as he walked past. “Learn anythin’ new today, Space Cadet?” Another shove from behind, harder this time. The boy tried to control the shaking, each hand clutching a shoulder strap of his pack. He looked down at his feet as he briskly strode the sidewalk. “What’s a-matter, freak?” intoned the bully, racing to get ahead of the boy. His shaggy black hair fell in his eyes. “Is the little, bitty baby afraid? Aw! Run home to mamma.” With a leer on his face, the tormentor jumped in front of the boy, stopping him in his tracks. He put his fat sneering face just inches from the boy’s. “You make me sick, punk!” He stabbed one of his fingers into the boy’s chest. “You are a good-for-nothing idiot! You ought to go . . . ” He never finished. At that moment a huge, wild-haired woman jumped out of a car that had pulled up beside them. “Wilbur, you lazy good-for-nothing! You should have been home an hour ago.” She grabbed the bully, who seemed to have shrunk at least six inches, by one of his ears and shook his head like an agitating washer. “How (she slapped him across the face now as he raised his hands to shield himself) many (slap) times (slap) do I have to tell you, idiot: Be home by three!” She was shaking him now, like a puppy jouncing a rag doll. “Just wait till you get home, stupid. You are going to get it this time!” And she nearly threw him into the backseat of the vehicle. The boy watched the bully as the car pulled abruptly away from the curb. For a brief second the two boys’ eyes met. As he turned away to continue his walk home, the boy felt a strange ache in his middle.


YES! It is April! And that means: National (or GLOBAL) Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo for short).
So, here I go again, on the writing roller coaster with hundreds of others across the earth. Why don’t you join us? Check it out here.

1 April: Write your own prose poem that, whatever title you choose to give it, is a story about the body. The poem should contain an encounter between two people, some spoken language, and at least one crisp visual image.

Life in Words

Leave a comment

One day
one word
brings applause and wild delight.
Two day
no one cares.
……..(been there.  done that.)
Only a sentence will do.
When that novelty
is worn like a very old sock,
a song is wanted.
A ballad.
An epic.
With clever phrases
……..(not too obscure, please!)
, metaphors & similes
……..(not too conventional, mind!)
, personification
……..(don’t anthropomorphise!)
, alliteration
……..(don’t twist our tongues!)
. Always expecting
……..(learn the rules before you break them!)

And here I am
still painting my life
in watercolour words.


GloPoWrMo2020bDay One NaPoWriMo 2020

Day One Prompt:  Write a self-portrait poem in which you make a specific action a metaphor for your life.

This was DIFFICULT.  Or maybe I was over-thinking the whole thing.  🙂

We are on our way!  Thirty days, thirty poems!  Why not join the journey!!!

who am i


love words
i do.
all shapes,
all sizes,
weaving and lacing them together
into coats of many colours
to clothe the naked world.

i do.
sharing the words,
throwing them around the classroom
in splashy messiness,
making stained glass mosaics
through which the sun shines.

i do.
because i was made
to the praise
of his glory,
turning everything i touch
into honour and service.

i am a little learner
knitting tangible words
into ethereal garments
of grace.


blogging u

Yes, I did.  I signed up for Blogging 101.
I’ve done Writing 101 and 201 (twice)
but have never done a blogging course.

Today is DAY ONE and we are meant to introduce ourselves.
Since this blog, little learner, is mostly poetry/prose,
I thought I’d introduce myself in the style of the blog.

Hello!  Welcome to the wordy world of Little Learner!

Waiting for a Reply


Refresh.  And refresh.
Sullenly stare at the screen
for watched-pot emails.




Writing 201: Poetry
Assignment — Day 1:

Prompt: SCREEN
Form: Haiku
Device: Alliteration

Haiku is easily the most difficult form of poetry for me to write.
I admire those who can say so much in 17 syllables.
I love splashing words all over the place in great profusion,
so this was a challenge!
(I wrote over 80 words while searching for these twelve!)