Writing 101- My Fears, with apologies to Dr Seuss

We all have anxieties, worries, and fears. What are you scared of? Address one of your worst fears.

Today’s twist: Write this post in a style distinct from your own.

Lucas and I, we go for a walk
In the park daily
Just him and me
And we like to talk,
About the things that we see.
One day we chanced upon
Balloons in a tree
A bunch of balloons
So pretty to see
Red, blue and yellow,
Purple and green
Such shiny balloons
Had never been seen.
I do not like them!
I really feel sick!
Said I to young Lucas
I’m globophobic!
There’s nothing to worry
You silly old thing!
It’s a bunch of balloons
All tied up with string.
But they go with a bang!
And they burst with a pop!
All this sudden noise
Could make my heart stop!
My Dear Mrs Gilly
Mrs Gilly my Dear
There’s no need to worry
There’s nothing to fear
It’s only a pop
It’s only a bang
It’s not like a bell that goes with a clang
Or a gun with a bullet that goes with a crack
Or a firework that screeches
Or thunder that booms
They are wonderful, colourful latex balloons
I think that you’ll find
There’s no need to swoon.
But if I walk past them
They’ll surely explode!
How can I walk past them?
Let’s find a new road.
Stop it! Please stop it!
Don’t be so scared!
Those bright coloured orbs
Mean that someone has cared
A birthday, a party,
A hullabaloo
Those bright shiny orbs
Bring happiness too.
Remember the movie,
The film called Up?
A boy, an old man,
A talking pup?
A house that took off
Half way to the moon?
A house and not one
But a million balloons!
So here’s what we’ll do
You silly wee miss
We’ll let them down gently
They will sigh with a hiss.
So we carried on walking,
Just him and me
To the end of our walk
When it was time for our tea.
And after we walked we rested our legs
And dined on our dinner
Of green ham and eggs.

My sincerest apologies to all lovers of poetry and Dr Seuss!
This post is part of the Writing 101 challenge by the Daily Post

Writing 101- rumours in the coop

Write a post inspired by a real-world conversation.
Today’s twist: include an element of foreshadowing in the beginning of your post.

Though the morning sun shone bright gold into the coop, there was a distinct chill in the air. Little Darling, Colonel Saunders and Apollo are out nervously scratching for bugs….

I’m not at all happy with what changes are being planned.
She can’t be serious.
Oh she is! I’ve seen her eyeing up our personal space. Measuring it for new comers I’ll bet.
Well, you’ve got to admit, we haven’t exactly been productive lately.
I try my best. But when a girl is losing her feathers there are more important things than laying an egg every day.
Well I’m not going to moved from my place on the roost.
Me neither. We’ve been here a long time. No new chicks with their fancy feathers are going to push me around.
I’d like to see them try- you’re a bit of a heavyweight.
Just because my plumage is glossier than yours, there’s no need to be jealous.
I’m not, I’m just stating facts. We need to start laying regularly again, all three of us, or things could get serious.
You must admit we have quite a good system going. She can’t actually tell which of us is laying, it could be just one, or all three on alternate days.
Good plan! I can’t understand why they call us “bird brains”
Anyway, we are internet celebrities, she can’t do away with us. Think of the scandal.
And as for Mr G, he’s just got the bill for our new coop. He’s worked out the cost per egg for keeping us far exceeds our worth.
But She wouldn’t. She loves us.
Still, I’ve seen that look in her eye when she’s googling all those fancy breeds. And her crestfallen face when the laying box is empty.
Here she comes! Look busy! And someone please go and lay an egg to keep us in her good books for another day.

Today’s blog post is an imagined conversation between the three hens in Mrs Gillybirds coop