A fair bit of grammatical word play in this poem. For me, word play remains a critical part of writing poetry.  I recall a wonderful story of two retired teachers, who regularly met for coffee. They both carried a stick of chalk with them just in case they had to correct the spelling, or grammar on various cafe noticeboards. As Ralph Fletcher wrote in his book, Pyrotechnics On The Page -  'Like most writers I know, I have always had an abiding interest in words for their own sake.'  I'm with Ralph on this. I indulge in wordplay for a number of conscious reasons. When I write like this, I am motivated by a need to be: Playful with words A bit surprising Deliberately irreverent Humorous Hope you enjoy this poem on Poetry Friday. The Grammar Police Anna Gram thought her teacher Miss Anthrop Was an undercover agent -for the Grammar Police. Anna feared for the words huddled in her notebook. …maybe her nouns were common And posses...

Sometimes a poet can be inspired by a smell, an aroma. That smell can be sweet and cloying or it can be putrefying and decaying, like stinky shoes. The poet may have a nose attuned to noticing particular smells. Our senses are a wonderful thing to call upon when writing. This poem is dedicated to all those stinkers who think it's cool to torture our nostrils with their foul smelling  fishies  in tins. If it smells that bad, surely it doesn't deserve to be eaten. SANDRA'S LUNCH Just what lurks in Sandra's lunch? Munch and crunch! Munch and crunch! Just what lurks in Sandra's lunch? Do you want to know? I think I have certain hunch Just what lurks in Sandra's lunch I think I have a certain hunch Do you want to know? Well, yesterday was curried egg Curried egg Curried egg Yesterday was curried egg The day before salami The things you find in Sandra's lunch Are enough to drive you barmy! One day, her lunch I tell yo...