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My Old Tartan Rug


This is a rewrite of one of my first articles on hubpages. I have added to the original thanks to my learning and encouragement from fellow poets.

I set myself a challenge to write different types of poetry about an everyday inanimate object.


I Lay you gently down upon the grass.

I set the picnic out beneath a tree.

I sit and think will waiting time to pass.

Today I’ll ask my love to marry me.

We have shared many of life’s hopes and aims.

The summer picnics in my first loves arms.

My children on you happy playing games.

Why did I not heed those loud alarms?

Now there is only you to keep me warm.

You wrap around me in my drunken sleep.

We did not see the coming of the storm.

Why did I have to sink down oh so deep?

I’ll find a way out of this hole I’ve dug.

And get our old life back my tartan rug.


On my tartan rug.

Pondering my life desire.

Gazing at the stars.

Praying for the river card.

To win life’s game of poker.


Lying on my rug.

Summer suns last rays fading.

Thinking of lost love.


Acrostic Poem

The places we have been together

As our life’s became entwined

Roads that we have travelled

Throughout the years enshrined

Always providing me with comfort

Nostalgic memories for to bind

Reminiscing we lie down just you and me

Underneath our favourite picnic tree

Grieving for the way things used to be


At a spot near an old mining pit

I laid my rug down for to sit.

As I took of my shoe

I smelt the dog poo.

Now my rug is all covered in shit

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