Tuesday, 26 November 2013

Scraping the Barrel - a biscuit sonnet

Matt West, Southampton's first Poet Laureate for Children ran a poetry workshop for us today (photo by Clair Anderson). We were tasked with writing a sonnet about broken biscuits. First we learnt all the sonnet rules and then broke them! Here's what we came up with.....

In the end does it really matter
if the biscuits are broken in pieces?
Too many of them will still make you fatter
on your platter with chorizo and cheeses.

This crumb on my plate, to me is a misfit,
it takes away the pleasure of busting my biscuit.
A broken biscuit is a reject left on the shelf,
with no other company apart from itself.

But Paul likes the irregular jigsaw fit
and Lee the malty-cultural mosiac blend.
You never quite know what you are going to get
or how the crumbly experience will end.

Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, who really cares if the biscuit smashes.
Every biscuit is destined to break up and shatter
In the end does it really matter?


  1. When my Mum was growing up in the early 1950's she always bought a bag of broken biscuits as they sold them off more cheaply than the whole ones.

  2. Some of the Biscuit Poets still buy them in Iceland and Ranges in case your Mum is hankering after some. I'd be happy to smash some up for her if that would help x


Please tell us what you think about our poems and the biscuits