I’d just got my head round Chel’s Golden Shovel challenge when it changed, here. Now it was take your poem and use the last word of each line in that poem as the last word in each line of your poem. Sigh…
So, using the same poem by Elizabeth BB which reads
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
That’s fourteen lines and a sonnet. I’ve tried to keep the meter so it remains consistent with the original. Oh, and it has to be about a pet.
The Admirable Persistence of Tortoises
My Tortoise, Vicky has various WAYS
Of escaping from my garden. The HEIGHT
Of the fence is no barrier. The SIGHT
Of her hauling herself isn’t exactly GRACE-
-Ful and it might take her several DAYS
To recover. She does tend to make LIGHT
Of the strain; her knees are shot and her RIGHT
Elbow needs some rest, but she thrives on PRAISE.
Whatever I say, it really is no USE
I can’t see her stopping now and her FAITH
In her awesome abilities to LOSE
The shackles of gravity take my BREATH
Away. I believe it is noble to CHOOSE
Her freedom over capture; that was is DEATH.

Very clever, sir! Cheers. x
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glad it meets your approval!
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Go Vicky go ….
Great terrible poetry 👍
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High quality rubbish!
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Yes indeed high quality 🙂
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Is this terribly great, or greatly terrible. I’ve confused myself, but it is………..something!
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it’s a thing!
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Nice post
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You go, Vicky! Never mind your owner’s (?) terrible poetry. You are a good muse!
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A good muse
Will always
Amuse
Youse.
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Too Truse
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She’s a muse and a half… a musemu?
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Vicky looks inspiring. I bet she loves your lawn, and if she cared for poetry, she’d be flattered to be chronicled (or maybe have a different perspective entirely).
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As long as the poetry was accompanied by either grapes or freshly soaked bread she’d be a devotee…
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It’s good to see Vicky!
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She is still asleep but if the mild weather continues she may wake early
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Hooray. How old is she?
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I do not think this is terrible at all, Geoff. In fact, it is quite brilliant.
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Oh thanks so much
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