Ta Dah!
I am the Poet of the Week for the W3 Prompt #153, so I get to set the prompt. I challenge you to write a monologue poem, and I’m very excited to read all your submissions!
Here are my prompt guidelines:
Monologue Poem Prompt
Write a monologue poem in which a character—historical, fictional, or original—takes centre stage. Step into their voice and let them speak. Who are they, and whom are they addressing? Reveal their personality through their words, tone, and actions.
Guidelines:
📍 Set the Scene – Your character must be seated on a bench. It could be a park bench, a courtroom seat, a workbench, or even the dreaded school “naughty bench.”
🤫 Use Subtext – What remains unsaid is just as important as what is spoken. Let hidden emotions or unspoken truths add depth.
🎭 Engage the Audience – Though alone, their words should feel directed at someone or something—whether a specific listener, a memory, or the universe itself.
💥 Finish Strong – End with a revelation, a twist, or a lingering thought that leaves an impact.
Poetry Form:
Poet’s choice.
I look forward to reading all your Bench poems!
Here is my poem, The Bench, which I wrote in response to my own prompt. Drumroll please!
The Bench
MARIA is an old woman of habit who often visits her favourite spot—a bench where she loves to sit. She enjoys feeding the birds, especially a robin that resides in the tree beside the bench.
I ease down slow and groan a bit,
it’s a major exercise for me to sit,
I sit on the bench because I’m getting old,
You’ll find me here most days, even when it’s wet ‘n cold.
Inscribed in wood on a memory plaque
is a melancholy tale behind my back…
The bench mentions a boy who met an early fate,
I know he died too young by looking at the date…
I turn away—I don’t want to know
The sad tale of the lad who died too young to grow.
I prefer to
sit and stare
breathe fresh air
and watch the scenic view…
I look around in hope to see you
on your perch, in your tree,
I search the branches that sway o’er me
above my head,
I pray you haven’t gone away,
and hope that you’re not dead.
Each day you wait
for me to come along,
bring a snack,
(“Oh! my back”)
to sit down here,
and hear you sing your song
How much for the ticket for your grand concert
from my front row seat?
My mealworms are the cost of it,
a paltry price in meat.
I turn my head but cannot see
where you are, where can you be?
Are you sitting on your nest?
Robin redbreast don’t hide away from me.
Look! In my hand I have your treat,
I’m sitting waiting… on my seat.
The slats are proving pretty hard, I shift and squirm,
It’s time to get moving to go quite soon,
Where are you pretty bird?
Must I leave without your tune,
and you without your worm?
In the morn or afternoon
when you’ve sung
My heart is full,
I am young
and the whole world’s cool
I slowly stand, “Cor!” I moan,
my poor back is sore
(has been all week)
The bench and I both creak
My chirpy friend, where have you gone,
to leave me here alone?
Then I wonder what song it is I hear?
the wind whispers in my ear,
“It is the wren and blue tit, dear.”
They sing really well, I know,
but not like my robin friend’s sweet solo,
I turn to go…
That’s just when I see you hop by my side,
I smile a grin that’s three-foot wide
There he is! my kind friend with chest of red,
I change my mind from leaving—and stop
and search my bag for worms, instead,
I slowly lower myself down on the bench again—
my back goes into spasm with a painful clench,
(Oh! The pain)
Rain begins to fall,
leaves on bushes stir,
a wind begins to blow,
but I don’t care,
oh no, I don’t care at all
You sing your sweet aria,
on the slatted stage,
While I sit and listen—
raindrops glisten on time’s open page
flowers dance soft grasses shuffle
and all the bluebells ring
Lesley Scoble, April 2025
Robin singing
My thought for the day
I know that old age is a temporary condition, and I trust that, with each new spring day, I shall get younger.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My everlasting thanks to David Bogomolny, The Skeptics Kaddish, for all his encouragement and inspiration.
My thanks to Anupama Okky for bestowing the honour of Poet of the week upon me.
Last but not least, my thanks to you the reader.
Keep well my friends.
To find out more about David’s W3 Prompts, please follow the link below.
Lesley lives in the City of London Square Mile. An artist, actor and sculptor (her first ceramic sculpture won the V&A inspired by… Award). Scenic artist & book illustrator, playwright (her musical play, Rapscallion performed in inner city schools and theatre school); TV dancer; mime artist; Animator and illustrator for TV production. Set up Pinecone Studios Ltd and IIMSI Ltd drama and filmmaking workshops in London – producing award-winning films made by children.
LesleyScoble.com 
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