Another random 10 subjects to try your skills on.

I totally agree with you... let's change the typical process that poems should coincide with our emotions... :D

Oh! I love a challenge LOL I didn't see your earlier post, jakester, but I'll give this a go! ...... "Moving day was a tornado of activity. Forget about any kind of routine! My mind was swirling at a frantic pace. I popped another headache tablet and ran screaming at the rancid-smelling idiot that had just dropped my son's drum kit in my brand new flowerbed! What were these people thinking?! I was trying so hard to be the anchor of the operation, directing traffic and making sure that the movers stopped working at the tortoise's pace that was threatening my financial well-being. Yet, feeling ever less in control, I watched helplessly as two burly young men tracked mud across my brand new carpets and I swore, just as I had in all my other moves, that I would NEVER do this AGAIN!" I think I got them all in there LOL Thanks for the fun!! :)

I am not as proud of this one as I was of the last..anchor that almost did me in. Here goes: Have you heard Rancid is the hottest new band known less for their music than the latest antic. All started with hooch or snuff..some habit? - certainly no mere aspirin tablet. Late one night or should I say 'morn- Slumped behind his drumkit they found the first of our much folorn. Though his his plight was the least of the others found at dawn it could not prevent the latest gossip and here it went. "Hotel Room struck by a Tornado named Tortoise". By now you know the scene... routine. What is the finacial toll,you ask,when you find a bass player has sprouted face down in your much beloved flowerbed. Couldn't he have chosen a carpet of grass? And last but not least we finally know the fate of their leader, their anchor their rock. Singer by day, Tornado by night why its Tortoise recovering from shell shock brought on by his devoted fans!!

I gulped down the water to swallow the tablet that was sticking in my throat, my head was banging with thoughts of the days routine. I'm a financial adviser you see, and my day had been tiresome and long. What I needed right now was some peace and quiet, but all I could hear was the boom boom of my son, Dan, upstairs practising for his music exam and beating out a racket on the drum kit I had bought him for his birthday. I opened up the Patio doors and strolled into the garden it looked overgrown and unkept, since my husband had left me two months ago I hadn't had the time or inclination to do anything to it, I glanced over and saw our tortoise, Billy, shuffling through the untidy flowerbed. Suddenly Dan rushed passed me, like a tornado, "i'm late", he bellowed,"i'm meeting the boys in the back of The Anchor, and we're practicing for our gig". The Anchor was the pub a couple of blocks away, it was a scruffy place, flocked wallpaper and stained carpets, but they let young people practice in their back room and I knew he would be safe there. I sat on the bench in the garden and closed my eyes, the last of the days sun warmed my cheeks and the days worries started to drain away, peace at last.....

It was just another routine day for me, driving by the flowerbed that carpets the side of the road near my house. I was on my way to buy my son a drum kit on my way to work as the financial anchor for bay news 9. My routine abruptly stopped when I hit the tortise, though. I never saw it coming, so I got out to see what I hit. I didn't see it at first, I just caught some of the rancid smell. Little did I know then that that incident would save my life, making me come to the point where the tornado crossed the road a few minutes after it passed. How does it feel to owe your life to a tortise?