This is my silly poem based on the 7x7x7x7 writing prompt from the Write Tribe.
Here is the first line which is the seventh sentence from the seventh page of a children’s book called “100 Classic Stories.” It was a porridge pot but I can’t help picturing some nondescript hairy beast with hooves and a mind of its own.
Then, one day, it trotted straight out the door
It left muddy hoofprints all over the floor,
I chased it but never did catch the beast
Last I heard it had headed East,
Once again it had broken free,
I decided I would just let it be
And wait for it to return to me.