writing poems with jim and other stuff

it's very pleasing to have a nephew who shares my love of words, even more so when we sit for a quick, delicious, no excellent, coffee in Hebden's Chapter 17 and he lays paper before me and instructions for a creative writing exercise which completely unpreparedly I am to participate in, and this all in 5 minutes before we have to go to the cinema.

     Write three words. Your turn.

     Uh ok choose two and write their opposite.

     Write a shop name and a street.

     Write a three line poem.

I am raring to go: I'm getting into this and looking forward to working up my notes which promise to become a Viking/Icelandic piece. when to my horror Jim says

    Swap papers.

Oh no - bye bye Vikings and welcome to the Broken Biscuit emporium

Me:

The back room of the Broken Biscuit Emporium
overwhelmed not with biscuits but scarves
knitted from the bare bones of the flooded high street

hmm more like prose but interesting how the Hebden floods creep in

Jim:

                              CAST
Merovingian farming tools, rusted axe heads
Scan the wares at Deremethynge, alright
the icelander's fishnet catches your eye.


Yes! Sharp as an owl, keen as a Lamplighter float, cool as a Pennine winter???

Atta boy Jim!!