I have written a few collaborative poems with Beckie, of Beckie’s Mental Mess, where we each add to lines and pass it back and forth between us, they are great fun. Beckie has started a new one, click on the link to her post:
This is how Beckie began it:
I walked through the home my grandmother once owned,
in the middle of the attic remained a dusty, antiquated trunk.
it contained a painting of her, looking like a queen enthroned,
and other seeming treasures, though some eyes would see only junk.
The painting revealed that she was not fully grown,
because of the oversized top-hat, the essence of futuristic steampunk.
My new bit:
And in the trunk, I saw a…
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