Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: GET COLD FEET (10/12/17)
- TITLE: A Beach Party - with Great Poe-tential
By Noel Mitaxa
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To describe all that was happening is no small task, since one Wordsworth a thousand pictures…
Strollers could only just recognise a poet furthest out from the shore. He was called Henry – with a life-maxim of “Wadsworth doing is worth doing well.” He was keenly searching for a Hia-wather level. Being such a Longfellow, he’s the kind of guy who stanza lone; for he Shakespeare-pressure off quite fearlessly.
While some people played Tennyson the beach, others simply relaxed like Elizabeth Barrett, Browning herself with a tanning cream while soaking up the sun on a beach towel.
One scowling presence was prompting everyone around him to Earnestly ask themselves, What is making Oscar Wilde?
Aligning with his apparent mood, an Irish feminist group had somehow adopted John Donne as their inspiration for removing every male from their homeland, as they victoriously proclaimed, “No man is in Ireland!”
A crowd had gathered around John Keats and his brother Walter, who were thrilling them with skilled mimicry of bird-calls. When someone asked how they remembered each call, Walter replied. “We learned them by rote.” Their method later became known as parrot fashion, since they were a pair-o-Keats.
In icy, ankle-deep water, an Eskimo folk group was singing a Robert Frost song, “Freeze a Jolly Good Fellow,” to honour an ancestor who drowned in his burned-out canoe while trying to stay warm at sea. While the song made Ogden Nash his teeth, they Inuitively appreciated the catharctic emotional release from singing about this sad death; which also inspired the saying “You can’t have your kayak and heat it too.”
Watching these cold soles – and heels – from the Shelley, pebble-strewn beach was a wet-suit clad bunch of would-be surfers. However, their fearful expressions exemplified more a case of “wouldn’t be;” for they were watching huge waves continually crashing onto the reef further out. None of them were offering to pave the way for their colleagues. No, they were destined – by choice – to stay as dry as they were - all day long.
Their collective reluctance made for some strong reaction from the crowd which later gathered for the Day’s award presentations. For there on the Poe-dium was a representative of this cowardly crew: a bone-dry, rubber-clad John Milton holding his surfboard aloft and proudly wearing his surfing medal.
“But Milton, you were too scared to get into the water! How does that qualify you for a medal?” came an indignant cry.
Milton replied with a smirk, “As I’ve often been quoted, ‘They also surf, who only stand and wait!’”
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