Some Kind Of Dope

Random poetry, Sport No Comments »

Hello, lovely people 😀


I have had to dig out another notebook, as I’ve now used every scrap of my last one!

As I look back over all the posts I’ve managed to put up here over the last month *points to menu section* I realise I’ve earned my tiredness somewhat 😉

Luckily, I have many spiral-bound quarter-to-half-full A4 pads kicking about my bedroom, so production will not be halted…unless I get caught up in reading all the other scrawled things I forgot I’d written, that is (distinct possibility – must…resist…)

Today’s generated words were pretty straight forward, in that I knew what they all meant (always a bonus) and there were quite a few connections going on already.

As I got to work, I ‘saw’ a guy in my head; being interviewed by a BBC journalist about his former school mate, whom had fallen from grace in the sports world:


Bad    Glory   Gymnastic   Passion   Muscle   Dope   Bronze   Area   Gutsy

“…He didn’t look bad to begin with!

That silly rush for glory

In his gymnastic passion

Had him building up the muscle,

Like some crazy person.


I don’t know why he used it;

He was never one to touch our dope

Behind the old school wall…

And all that fake tan!  I ask you:

Who wants to look like some bronze statue?


I don’t even like girls using it.

(But then, I’ve never been one

To see the point in that area of make-up)


I agree he was gutsy for doing that

Expose-all feature in the tabloids –

I mean, maybe he’ll help someone else?

But what a waste, man.

What a bloody waste.”


Oooo ‘new’ notebook 😉

Does the above count as a poem?  I’m not sure.  The syllables don’t seem to follow any pattern, but it tells part of a story.

Would you have written about something completely different?  Which nuance of ‘dope’ sprang into your mind?

To the comments, dear readers…







© 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Boys Against The Girls

Random poetry No Comments »

Hey you 😉


Not much higher thought went into today’s poem. 

I decided it would centre around a game of basketball, seeing as it was one of the words (!) and ‘ingrown’ immediately said toenail to me…so someone would be on the bench for that. 

Three possible names are in there, which was a gift (as ‘Shiloh’ didn’t hand me any real leads when I looked it up, and ‘Paris’ was just easier as a name…).

I have been watching the news a lot today (our youngest elected to stay off nursery, due to his intermittent runny eyes and general emotional state;  prompted by this never-ending cold. He didn’t want to play with me much,  but wanted me around) so my head is pretty dizzy with stereotyping and “opposites” pitted against each other, thanks to the TV…!

So it filtered into this poem:


Challenge   Shiloh   Rotator   Lola   Basketball   Ingrown   Paris   Generic   Hot

As a challenge, I tried him at his own game;

But Shiloh was an excellent rotator –

Charging past both Lola and me

Making this basketball lark look easy.


Danny sat laughing from his perch on the wall

Having begged off for an ingrown toenail, now

Making light of our obvious pain.

(So much for friendship, boys always gang up)


Paris rolled her eyes at us, tightened her boots,

Shouldered her way into the fray; as usual.

Not your ‘generic’ cheerleader, that one:

Hot, yes, but also deadly with a ball.


Notebook page – pretty in pink?

Could there be a slight nod to Shiloh meaning “the one to whom it belongs”? 

Was I courting innuendo with my last line?

How would you have used these words?  Do you know about Basketball and go to see games? 

I admit I have never learned much about it, probably because I am from the UK and it is not as big over here as it is in the US.

As always, please let me know your thoughts/tell me what piece you’d write  using these words in the comments.

Catch you tomorrow 😉


Copyright 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Harsh Truths

Random poetry No Comments »

Hi all,


I have not had much time today to sit and watch the news, but the reports that I have seen have had me oscillating between  scratching  my head, and burying it in my hands! 

It is a changing situation, so my link is also evolving throughout the day, but when I wrote the below it was still unclear how everyone was going to be affected, but that Trump’s Muslim Ban was pretty far-reaching and rolled out very fast. 

Also, it was put in place on Holocaust Memorial Day, which is particularly chilling.


Filter   Blame   Paragraph   Huge   Integrated   Ambiguous   Expenditure   Notebook   Claim

I tried to filter through the news reports

(About her not doling out blame)

Without getting madder at each paragraph

Or feeling huge amounts of shame.


A person we thought integrated

Became ambiguous overnight?

Because some idiot signed papers?!

Surely, May, this isn’t right?


Why’s he focussing expenditure

Of energy, time (and gall)

On a raft of strong behaviour

That won’t keep the peace at all?


As I scribble in this notebook, just

Here helpless, in the main

Should you, May, not counter his acts;

Be as decisive as you claim?


Are you not running a country that’s

Appalled by his attitudes?

I think some harsh truths need pointing out,

Even if you think it rude…


Political pen.

The above does not scan anywhere near perfectly, but the poem begged to be written, I felt.

I listened to Theresa May’s speech when she was in America on Thursday, and thought that it had some real master strokes in it.  I was smiling at the repeated references to Thatcher and Regan working together, as it (of course) highlighted how the only other female PM we have had in Britain was a strong person who got things done; and Trump is not exactly big on seeing women as equals. 

I noticed there were references to Churchill in there too, a bust of whom Trump has reinstated in the Whitehouse, so he obviously reveres.  I knew it was all geared towards us having a big ally as we leave the EU etc, but it was said well.

I know that May’s in a tough position now as she still wants to trade with America, and I do believe that she is cautious and wanted all the facts in front of her before condemning Trump’s actions, but she has not done well here. 

The soundbite she gave to the press along the lines of America being free to make up its own rules was very misjudged, and her scrambling to play catch up now (which she didn’t have much of a choice in, because this whole mess moved so fast) has lost her a lot of respect.

What now for our forlorn little country and for the many, many people in turmoil in the wake of Trump’s paper-signing?  It seems at the moment that we are waking up to a new, crazier, policy every day. 

What are your thoughts?   

[Please remember to abide by the Site Etiquette 😉]


Copyright 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Arian Wry

Random poetry, Relationships No Comments »

Hello out there…


I was busy pottering about doing other things on this wet Saturday, and actually did not get around to generating words or writing my poem until after 10.30pm!  Don’t think I’ve ever left it that late before?!

Then, once I’d generated some words and saved the screenshot (I try not to look at the screen while I do that, so I have my strict 15 mins) and allowed myself to write down the words, I realised they were not going to be very easy for me!

AND I went and picked a pretty intense rhyming pattern for my poem while I was writing it.  Why?  I have no idea…!!

So here it is:


Wry   Security   Aries   Panda   Mississippi   Lewis   Legal   Coarse   Volkswagon

His face twisted up into a wry expression

As I lifted the paper to see

His starsign on the page.  He pretended to me

He’d just get on with the security…


An Aries (of course) he supposedly matched

My December birthdate to a tee

But (we both liked to say) hell’d freeze over the day

We’d do anything close to naughty.


As the nightshift dragged on, we watched pointless TV

About a Panda cub, the Mississippi;

The Isle of Lewis looked somewhere I’d enjoy

(New legal thing, for ITV)


His coarse language aside, the Volkswagon ride

Home was unusually pleasant.

I surprised myself lots, as we came to a stop:

Invited him in by accident…


Notebook page.

All I can ‘see’ in my head for these two is a man and a woman on either side of a large horseshoe-shaped desk, dressed in blue uniforms; they have a newspaper between them, a big TV on the wall and some security screens on the desk.  I have no idea what kind of business they are protecting, what their names are, how often they are supposed to patrol the premises, or anything. 

I don’t even know if they are both single…

Although the poem needs tightened up in quite a few areas, I am chuffed with what I managed in the 10 minutes I had left after looking things up (like clarification on my understanding of ‘wry’). 

I had no idea when I started how the damn ‘Panda’ was going to be mentioned, so thank goodness for that TV!

Both of my sons are Aries, so I knew Sagittarians were compatible, being fire signs (all mums look these trivial details up when pregnant, don’t they…?!)

I was panicing on the last line, because I had no idea how I was going to finish and (at least half-) rhyme with ‘pleasant’ but this saved me just in time 😉 love love love the internet…

Have you ever worked with someone who has proved irresistible?  How did it pan out? 

What story would you have come up with for these words?

Let me know in the comments!



Copyright 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

A Chamber. (Made).

Random poetry No Comments »



Today I was writing my poem, while my hair was busy soaking up dye, in the salon where my lovely friend works.  She was making sure I finally got rid of the tresses that have been wiggling in my eyes for the past few weeks!

There was quite a bit of hair on the floor when she’d finished…and I LOVE it!!

I wrote the below within my 15 minutes, with music and chatter going on around me. 

I don’t like the poem much in itself, but I loved getting to write it in a nice relaxed state.


Chamber   Saint   Capture   Major   Boundary   Round   Drian   Light   Conversation

In my own chamber

I feel like a saint

Who’s been subjected to

Such an undignified capture.


Some major miscarriage

Of Justice and rights –

A boundary crossed;

Navigation ‘round all of my stands.


But, really, I sit

In disgrace and shame

For a drain pipe scaled.

A teenage misdemeanour too far.


My halo: choking me.

No barred windows, but

Rightly punished for

Slipping out to pursue others’ light.


Sweet conversation

A bad, heady, drug

No phone now to reach out:

Accomplish my fix, share my woes.


Awww, a dinky notebook page today!

I came up with a strange pattern of syllables, and I’m not really sure why? 

I like the idea of the teenager in her room, sulking, but I need to explore it with more time.

Were you grounded much by your parents?  What did you get up to in order to deserve it?!

What would you have written about, using today’s words?

Please drop me a comment and let me know 🙂



Copyright 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

A Fetching Pet

Random poetry 2 Comments »

Howdy-do 😀


I thought I would have a bit of fun writing my poem today, as I have been kind of serious and morally of late (booo).

With some Harry Potteresque words coming up, I decided to go for a fantasy theme and a wee rhyme as well.


Seemed rude not to 😉


Magic   Fetch   Overt   Grade   Cactus   Enchanting   Secret   Lick   Glib

As the tendrils of his magic

Floated lazily through the air,

I instructed our Dragon

To fetch the Master’s chair.


In an overt display of grandeur

That scaled creature did as bid,

(Then settled back to gnaw the bones

Of hapless late-servant, Sid).


I went back o’er the test-papers,

Checking every grade was true;

Then I fed the Collared Peccary

A nice cactus or two.


When Master was done enchanting,

I opened his secret lair.

(Dragon came to lick his boots

And carry in that chair).


I trotted out my glib def’rence,

Made everything look good;

Then escaped, to have my lunch

(Not fancying the Dragon’s food).


Page of pencil prances.

The verses scan pretty well, but if I’d had more time I would have tightened it up a lot more (maybe have written about other strange happenings in the speaker’s day, too).

The mention of ‘Collared Peccary’ comes from here, as I was quickly searching for something that would consume a cactus and might be an unusual animal to pop up in a wizardy poem.

I looked up ‘glib’ here.  I wanted to make sure I was using it correctly.

What scenario did today’s word combo make you think of?


Copyright 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

One Small Voice

Random poetry No Comments »

Hello 🙂


The words were again pretty straightforward today, and seemed to be quite well connected.  I fell back on the old favourite of a parent speaker once more, to explore the theme I got in my head. I still only just finished it within the time limit, however!



Pretend    Commando   Knowing   Binocular   Behead   Firearm   Director   Link   Web 

I do not like to see our children pretend

To be a commando that crawls to cheat death.

I watch them, while knowing deep inside my heart

That there’s a binocular, trained

Upon each of our backs by the casters of fate.

We do not the outcomes all see:

With each daisy my boys, in their jest, do behead

I think of prisoners dealt with the same.


A stick-firearm pointed at giggling friends,

One small voice the director of wars;

Their only link to that world from fantasy and fun,

And what they pick up from the web.

Such innocent frolics, much laughter and fun,

Then a hug, some food, bluster and smiles.

As the party troop home to their safe little lives,

Only I think of mothers who can’t.


Purple prose

I used ‘fun’ twice in the last verse, and I’m not sure the last line completely works; but it is an ok first attempt, in my view 😉

How do you feel about kids playing at being soldiers and having battles?  Did you enjoy such games as a child?

Is there ever any way to protect our children from such play, when the most popular cartoons all seem to have some sort of missile/bomb/gun/laser/battle/mild violence in them?!

What would you have written about using today’s word selection?

Copyright 2016 Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

A Second Born

Childhood, Parenting, Random poetry, Relationships No Comments »



The words that came up today fed into what I was pondering while watching my boys play football in their playground after school was out.

It was really cold, but I always over-wrap our boys since we are so used to the walk home in all conditions! 

We have not done the footie thing after school since about October, because it was just getting too dark by the time we got home, so we focussed on getting in and getting cosy. Our six year old has not been happy about this, casting longing glances back at the kids who have transport,  really wanting to stay an extra 15 minutes (which would always end up being double that if I ever said yes…).

But Daddy being off work this week gives us much more scope for play!  So our boys got a good work out keeping up with all the different ages of kids hanging around after school 😉


Son   Graceful   Wealth   Productive   Stew   Brother   Parched   Unpack   Spicy


I watch my son, last year so little,

Now graceful in his attempts

To tackle bigger boys at football.


All that wealth of knowledge

Gleaned from being second-born

Proving productive.  No stew

About being outplayed, just

Determined to get on,

And help his brother out should

He need someone who’s clear.


I only get an update

When a small parched mouth is calling,

(Then a drilling, as I unpack,

About which tactic I liked best).


It’s so beautiful, yet sobering,

To see him play and banter;

Throw down slightly spicy humour

Retell some cartoon gags.


No, I can’t escape the evidence

Of years and time and patience,

But then I couldn’t be prouder,

So I’ll just hug him extra tight.


Tracks of a hasty pencil.

Do you sometimes look at your child/ren and catch your breath at how big they suddenly seem?

I often look at pictures of my siblings on Facebook (who are now parents themselves) and give myself a shake as I still think of them as primary school kids!!  (Sorry guys, but I do). Their children are growing at an alarming rate too, it’s so scary.

I read the above poem to our youngest as he sat on my knee, his curls still damp from the bath, his little face tired and emotional from his busy day. He seemed pleased that I had written about him again, and that I had taken in how well he’d been handling himself.

Our eldest came in at that moment (also newly washed and PJd) and agreed that his brother had done well, so it was a nice moment.

What son and brother interaction would you have written about?


Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

The Experiment

Random poetry No Comments »

Hi  😉


Hubby has taken a week off work, so I was sitting in a café to write the following poem.

We had a lovely cooked breakfast and a few cups of tea, then settled down with our separate paper and pens. 

We were quite tired as we had stayed up late, and yet had championed the kids rattling down the 1.5 mile pavement gambit to school and nursery on their scooters!

Hubby had parked the car down at the school, and quickly walked back up to meet the boys and me as we careered towards him.  This was a great move, as it meant we could chuck the scooters and helmets in the back and zoom off to our wee retreat, then have the scooter for the youngest’s pick up time so he could lark about with it before he came home 😀

None of this activity really gave me any ideas for today’s word usage, however.  I am not even sure I know what the poem I ended up with is really about…


Board   Rack   Researcher   Result   Excitement   Package   Emphasis   Cope   Freshman  


The surf board fitted on the roof rack

But my fears didn’t.

The researcher checked his watch

And we drove away.


I wanted to get him the right result,

Excitement in my gut;

The package he had promised me

Playing on my mind.


The emphasis on discretion

Meant no one else knew;

A tricky experiment that

I was facing alone.


Hard as it is, I have learned to cope,

Fears leave when I start.

His money paid for my Freshman year;

My courage? For much more.


Notebook page, attached to another notebook page…

When my 15 minutes were up and I read it to hubby, he didn’t know what it was really saying, either!

We brainstormed a bit over the remaining time before our 11.40am deadline, but only really came up with the board being some sort of device for measuring the force of shark bites…but we weren’t convinced 😉

What does the poem mean to you?  What is the real relationship between the ‘researcher’ and the speaker?

Is the speaker male or female? What is in that ‘package’?

Please let me know, in the comments, what you come up with!




Copyright 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

How They Fly

Random poetry No Comments »

Hello! 🙂



I didn’t need to look up any of the words in today’s selection, so I just dove straight in with a thought that popped into my head:





Appear  Magnificent  Equipment   Captivity   Neck   Last   Aim   Cough   Convict

Even the smallest detail

On a ‘repulsive’ bug’s wing

Can appear magnificent.


It is all a matter of perspective,

And obtaining the right equipment.


I have a beauty if I only focus in

On what’s important; even if

Sometimes it feels like captivity:

My neck constantly cricked by

The pressure to be many things

I’m not sure how to own.


Sometimes, after a long day,

The last aim of my inner nag

Pummels below the belt;

And I can’t seem to feel ok

With anything I’ve done.


It is so wrong, after all this time,

To be susceptible to the nonsense;

But still, I cough up my pride

And watch it thrown away.


I need to notice delicacy

Does not imply much weakness.

Do not convict the vulnerable,

Though you know not how they fly.


A friendly scribble ‘cross a page.

I don’t really like this poem.

There is a repetition of ‘sometimes’ for a start, and although the first three lines came to me straight away, pretty much fully formed, I don’t like where I went with them. 

I’d like to rewrite the poem, especially the end which I don’t feel works at all.  Maybe I will!

What picture would you paint with today’s generated words?




Copyright 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!