a gauntlet thrown down

[chillitt]

A test of the worthy,a battle of wits,
a challenge, a contest, a series of skits.
So come on you wordsmiths and juggle some phrases
with rhythm and condour sing your own praises!

No modesty here, and no lines ending in purple
its a headline dive! through your life we will hurtle
so tell me then, how did this all get started
talk of friends growing up, and dearly departed.

Who will pick up this gauntlet thrown down?

[Shizara]

Who will pick up this gauntlet thrown down?

A knight of old England, a poet of reknown?
A teacher of words, a gardener, a wife,
Someone from the land of the shivering knife?

For my part in this tale of lives entwined
Returning to the roots; the ancestor kind;
With determination and strength they followed their dreams
And sailed the seas of life's relentless extremes.

They left the land; their ancestoral home
Opportunities sought; they whispered tearful shalom.
A life of brand new beckoned from afar
Could they realize their dream and see the first morning star?

What is it that brings you to the place that you are?

[cathidaw]

Place names of China.

Bolding Veritas! Shanks new Nisa!
Trusty Lichfield swirls it down
To filter beds on Ruislip Marshes
From my lav in Kentish Town.

The Burlington! The Rochester!
Oh those names of childhood loos--
Nursie rattling at the doorknob:
"Have you done your number twos?"

Lady typists--office party
Golly ! all that gassy beer!
Tripping home down Hendon Parkway
To her 'Improved Windermere'

Here I sit, alone and sixty
Bald and fat and full of sin.
Cold the seat and loud the cistern
As I read the Harpic tin

Not really a reply- but I thought it typically Bennett

[Shizara]

What is it that brings you to the place that you are?

Burlington and Rochester? - Office parties; ooo ahhhh!
After the interlude provided by Cathidaw
It is time to move on and share so much more!

A memory from days that have long gone by
Out on the town, walking home; we do try
But the inevitable happens and one needs to relieve
Where do you go?!? Facilities closed we believe!

"Some trees!" someone cried; full of elation!
Deary me it's the local cops' station!
The need has now become greater than fear
That a uniform might, from the shadows, draw near.

Escaping with wits and modesty intact
We leave before a presence we attract.
Onward; time for sobriety unfurled
Time to sleep in the neverland world.

The gauntlet now down, will you take it and run?

[Shizara]

The gauntlet now down, will you take it and run?

Have you a measure of strength for the deed to be done?
It isn't what you do but the way that you do
That determines your strength to carry you through.

By chillit the challenge was initially set
It doesn't your appetite virtually whet?
We all have a tale in the back of our mind
Some we can share; some we leave far behind.

The gauntlet now sits and waits for the hand
Will you leave it to be covered in life's shifting sand?
We know you have humour and a picture to paint
Looking for perfection is something we ain't.

Not all in this world are poets of great fame
But most of us can, the imagination inflame.
Come sail the high seas of life with us
Be it a journey by train, plane, boat, car or bus.

The gauntlet now waits; does your hand find it fits?

[chillitt]

Who left this glove here?
now it fits as gloves should
right number of fingers
and leather thats good!

I came here by luck
and lucky it seems
but this isn't the place
of my lifes hopes and dreams

I've muddled along
drifted hither and yon
see, i'm not one for staying
once the moment has gone

But the moment is on us
so here i'll remain
til the cards all get shuffled
and dealt out again

Now one hand is freezing
and the other to hot
should I put back the gauntlet
or search for the one I have not?

[cathidaw]

I remember the privy at the end of the path.
Its roof held together by cobwebs and lath.
Twin seated it was, of old splintered wood.
Quite why there were two was not understood.

Blistering paint on the handle free door
Crumbling bricks on the bare earthen floor.
Damp paper squares on a big rusty nail
Carefully torn from an old Daily Mail.

We played hide and seek from this little room
Counting loudly in the gloom.
With sunbeams peeping through the gaps
Then running out shouting ,"Coming chaps".

Delicious, haunting evenings, the nights full of sound
Walking up the dewy path, odd rustlings abound.
Scary moonlit monsters lurking in the trees.
Hearts beat a little faster-we trembled at the knees.

Relief to reach that room at night - the candles in their jars
Looking upwards to the roof and gazing at the stars,
With time to ponder, time to dream, a haven from outside,
Such magic in my memory-this place I used, to hide.