This week let’s write a stout poem. It could be a brave and bold poem, a strong and solid poem or even a beer poem. It could also take a stout shape, if you’re up for a challenge.
Post your poem in the comments below.
Living Poetry
A group of poets and poetry readers.
Monday Poetry Prompt: Stout
Living Poetry 
I couldn’t let it pass
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Posted by Cassa Bassa | January 29, 2020, 7:43 PMHappy Stout
Family and friends come visit
Little teapot short and stout
Warm and fragrant pour it out
Freshly baked choc chip cookies
everybody scoffs them down
Mama wipes off sweat with hand covered in flour
Papa stands up facing Mama holding a mirror
Chuckles from her round belly rumbling loud
Our little home filled with happy smiles
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Posted by Cassa Bassa | January 29, 2020, 6:43 PMI’d forgotten about the little teapot! Nice work.
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | January 29, 2020, 7:10 PMOh my! This adorable 🙂 I can taste the cookies and see the sweat and picture a paste of flour on her face. Such a happy visual! Well done.
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | January 30, 2020, 8:40 AMThank you Lisa! 💚
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Posted by Cassa Bassa | January 30, 2020, 2:54 PMI’m supposin’ Grandpa’s beer was stout
the way he’d carry on ‘n’ shout
moonshine was his heritage
so I’m sure he learned to find that edge
never tasted his home brew
momma said it was fine, too
wonder how I got the taste
when all this blood runs through my veins
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | January 27, 2020, 7:11 PMMust be from your paternal genes. Nice work.
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | January 27, 2020, 8:28 PMThanks! It was my maternal grandpa. He was an interesting character.
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | January 27, 2020, 8:37 PM