Daddy Steve: April is National Poetry Month. Our writer Blake has decided to observe it by composing an epic poem. The trouble is that at the moment, the creative juices aren't exactly flowing.
Blake: I think I'm suffering from writer's block. Oh, fickle muse, why hast thou abandoned me?
As always, Holly Belle and Meghan are more than happy to offer advice and 'helpful' suggestions.
Holly Belle: Maybe you need one of those poet shirts?
Meghan: Yes! With the puffy sleeves and ruffed cuffs!
Holly Belle: Or maybe a quill pen and a pot of ink?
Meghan: Perhaps a pair of fingerless gloves and a candle nub to warm your hands?
Holly Belle: Just like Dr. Zhivago!
Blake: Maybe I just need some peace and quiet!
Meghan: Hmf. Artists can be so temperamental.
Ann Marie: Why don't you take a little walk? Clear your head and see what other kids are doing?
Blake: Now that's a good idea.
Blake: Hi Stephen Orange, what are you up to?
Stephen Orange: I'm reading a book on giant clams.
Blake: ...Giant...clams? Hmm, now there's an idea! Excuse me, I think I feel
an epic poem coming on!
Blake: Yes...yes, the words are just flowing on the page!
His masterpiece completed, Blake presents it to Stephen Orange to recite.
Mock not the giant clam,
Else upon unwary diver his jaws will slam.
Offend him and go you on the lam,
Or with a snap! you've lost your gams.
His insides resemble uncooked yam,
Dines he at the local dam.
Prefers he custard tarts & jam,
He does not like green eggs & ham.
Blake: Well? What do you think?
Stephen Orange: I like it, although it's not strictly accurate. As is often the case with uncharacteristically large species, the giant clam has been historically misunderstood. It is neither aggressive, nor particularly dangerous. And, its shell valves close too slowly to pose a serious threat.
Blake: They don't call is 'poetic license' for nothing!
