Yikes—I’m Poet of the Week!
I have the honour of reading all the wonderful poems submitted to the W3 Poetry Prompt #169, and choosing who receives the Poet-of-the-Week crown. A formidable task!
It’s a true pleasure to read such a wide range of work from so many talented poets—though I always find the final decision a difficult one, with such a rich pool of voices.
My prompt is to write a narrative poem in any poetic form of your choice.
Here are the guidelines:
This week, you are the inhabitant of a realm set apart.
Option 1: The Desert Island 🏝️
You’re alone on a desert island. It may be literal—or metaphorical.
Why are you here? What led you to this dilemma? How do you feel, truly? How are you surviving—physically, emotionally, spiritually? What are your hopes? How might you escape? And crucially: do you even want to?
Let solitude shape the rhythm.
Option 2: The Fantasy Castle 🏰
You inhabit a castle—not just any, but one infused with fantasy.
Who are you? Are you a monarch weighed by secrets, a dragon curled beneath the stone, a gargoyle watching centuries unfold, a princess awaiting—or resisting—destiny… or something else entirely?
Your protagonist can be you, he, she, they, or it. Let mystery guide the voice.
I chose the option of The Desert Island.🌴
Come drift through Wrecked—my poem of hot sun, sunburn, and solitude.
At its core is a companion piece: an audio reflection that carries the poem’s rhythm in waves… and the clap of coconuts.
You’ll find the song waiting below, like a message in a bottle floating on still water. 😁
Wrecked
by Lesley Scoble
I knew by the bones that lay on the shore:
someone else had been here before.
My throat felt parched—
I needed a drink.
I looked around—
there was no sight of a kitchen sink.
My skin was burnt by the heat of the sun.
it hurt a lot…
this wasn’t fun.
Where was I?
Why was I here…?
I remembered going out last night—
to the pub for a beer…
There was a pulsating beat
in my head.
It throbbed pretty sore—
at least I wasn’t dead.
I’m all alone.
And think.
How will I survive
and stay alive?
All by myself,
on a sand dune:
beneath hot sun
in the days—
and when night comes,
under the cold light of the moon.
Alone.
How can this be?
As I gaze in a haze,
out to sea.
A crab walked sideways across the sand.
Seaweed curled around my hand.
Waves spat foam about my feet…
I needed a drink
and something to eat.
Nearby,
right above me
a tall palm tree grew—
I knew it must be
a mile high in height.
Its palm fronds swayed
in the tropical breeze.
I saw,
hanging in its shade
in a taunting tease…
was a coconut.
I must reach it…
but,
it grew far too high.
On this beach,
I was doomed
to die.
My soul and heart
let out a tormented scream.
But—
just then—
I heard a voice:
“Wake up darling,
you’re having a dream.”
I open my eyes—
everything’s a blur…
then… I see her.
“You’ve been drinking again!”
said my third wife, Germaine.
—Lesley Scoble, 2025
Music Audio—I’m delighted to present to you the song of the poem! Enjoy!
THANK YOU
My gratitude as always to David, The Skeptics Kaddish.
My thanks to Ben Tonkin for choosing me as Poet of the Week for my poem Fantastical Vessel on the Ebon Tide.
My heartfelt thanks to you the reader, for reading / listening to my poem.
To find out more about the W3 Poetry Prompt follow the link below
LesleyScoble.com 
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