Writing 201: Poetry Day 2

So the brief today is journey/limerick/alliteration.

In the interests of not straying too far from the core subject of my blog, I’ve decided where possible to weave my personal journey into whatever poetry assignment is thrown my way! This pregnancy has indeed been a journey, so I’m attempting to capture the last 8 months in a series of limericks. Here’s a taster so far…

I thought I was done with my brood,
Then I noticed a change in my mood;
One day I felt sick
So I peed on a stick –
It was month one, oh hell I was screwed!!

Ok, so I didn’t quite manage any alliteration, and in isolation it isn’t a journey, but both will be covered when I’ve finished 😜

Update: I had a bash at completing the journey, so below is the ‘finished article’. I don’t like to play around too much with my poetry – I like to just get the words out of my head and leave it pure. As a result, I haven’t managed to meet the alliteration brief, which it might have done had I edited my work.

It is therefore a particularly immature piece of work, but I kind of like how the standard limerick form has allowed me to produce a trivialised version of my pregnancy journey, which has been far from jovial at times.

Bluemama’s Journey

I thought I was done with my brood
Then I noticed a change in my mood
One day I felt sick
So I peed on a stick
It was month one, oh hell I was screwed!!

By month two I was still in shock;
I thought I had switched off that clock!
But my body had plans,
So I went for some scans,
And confirmed there’s one more for the flock.

Month three I still felt no better.
I had wanted to be a jet-setter.
My big plans for travel
Had begun to unravel
As I looked forward to just getting fatter.

Month four it began to sink in;
Still not ‘happy’ but more settled within.
And though it still wasn’t great,
I accepted my fate
And accepted my baby therein.

Month five came and went without drama.
I stopped believing this was some kind of karma.
No point in complaining,
This baby is staying,
And I was feeling much calmer.

Month six it became more exciting!
I looked at the bright side, stopped fighting.
Though emotions ran high,
I would no longer cry
At the thought of a life without sleeping.

Month seven and my girl is moving,
Constantly wriggling and growing.
I can picture her face,
As she moves in my space –
She’s a thing I can see myself loving.

Month eight and I’m writing a rhyme
About the run up to month nine!
From terror and tears,
All the sadness and fears,
To now, waiting ’til she’s all mine.

Feedback is a gift, so please let me know what you think!

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