Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 151

For this week’s prompt, pick a creature that lives primarily in water and incorporate it into your poem. Could be a fish. Could be a whale. Could be a crab. Could be the Loch Ness Monster. The poem doesn’t have to be about the create, but it should be worked in one way or another.

Here’s my attempt:


Will says he’s a shark with big teeth.
Then, he bites at the air around him.
Will says he’s a scary tiger and growls
before turning into a wolf that howls
and around our kitchen he prowls.
Will says he’s a dinosaur and roars:
“T. Rex, roar!” “Triceratops, roar!”
“Stegosaurus!” Then, suddenly bored,
Will picks up a car and drives it
out of the kitchen and into the sunset.


Connect with me on Twitter @robertleebrewer


Breathe Life Into Your Characters!

Writing consultant and professional psychotherapist Rachel Ballon Ph.D. shows how to tap into your own thoughts, feelings, and emotions to make believable characters in Breathing Life Into Your Characters. And at the time of this posting, this great book can be had for less than $5!

Click here to learn more.


You might also like:

  • No Related Posts

96 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 151

  1. foodpoet

    Wind and the Sea

    Tunnel of light
    faces float
    jelly fish float in
    blue dance up to
    light rain fall
    water floods
    jelly fish swim
    through drown
    palm trees coat the
    golden gate bridge.
    In the drowing time
    Fires burn as the
    Last bird flies
    The dove finds
    No olive branch
    Only the deluge of man’s

  2. Dyson McIllwain

    Hold Your Breath

    Treading to keep your head above water,
    catching a lungful from time to time.
    Going down too many times to count,
    but you struggle to survive. You remain
    alive with the words that drip with the emotion
    that has always been your forte. Drowning in a sea
    of night sweats and blankets tangled, and things
    that go bump have you stumped as your sleeplessness
    offers only anxiety and paranoia. Hold your breath
    and allow rest to resuscitate your muse.
    You’ve abused yourself far too long. Be strong
    and let nature heal what it has destroyed.
    The king is not dead, he merely sleeps.
    We think it is about time.

    You can’t keep a good poet down. Best wishes and thoughtful prayers for
    Walt Wojtanik an extraordinary poet who has fallen prey to his demon.
    He will surely bounce back.

  3. epabaxter

    A Whale’s Life

    The dinosaurs of our modern times,
    The mystery of the big blue still boggles one mind…
    The depth still undiscovered…
    The massive beast that swims the tides,
    pokes his head above the water time to time;
    The blow of his spout, the wave of his tale,
    the docile creature so massive in size,
    people who fear what they do not know…
    may be the cause of the creatures end,
    the hunt of the whale is not only from fear,
    the hunt whale is purely for greed…
    the beast of water no longer roams free,
    the beast of the water is now an endagered breed…
    so beautiful to watch,
    this massive creature,
    with a tale that can destroy,
    But yet doesn’t harm a single fish in the sea…
    Swimming along side with all ocean species,
    the size doesn’t matter in these waters,
    The beast of the sea is harmless- as can see,
    the docile mammal wanting just to be,
    the massive creature in the deep blue sea,
    swimming without fear and swimming to be free!!!
    We see them, we watch them,
    As the world should see,
    Never been a good enough reason,
    for them not to be free…
    Letting them be…

  4. AC Leming

    a decidedly coastal tradition I was introduced to upon dating (then marrying) a Virginian…still the slowest picker at the newspaper clad picnic table. 😉

    crabs turn
    orange pink when
    steamed but
    are oh
    so delicious to
    pick and

  5. leatherdykeuk

    St Ives Harbour

    Along the harbour wall are lobster pots
    stacked three, four high in a long line
    of salt-encrusted netting.

    She stands in the shadow of the pile
    texting her friend back at home
    but I miss her movement
    ant think she’s stuck somewhere,
    her head caught in the trap
    that captures crustaceans so readily.

    I imagine her struggles
    as she tries to free herself
    but she reappears from behind the nets,
    her hoody pulled up despite the heat
    and we walk back to town
    to find a chippy.


This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.