Storyteller Challenge #4: Random Promt Generator!

Shah is at it again, creating lots of opportunities for us writers to practice, do a few prompts, talk about them and so much more. It's been a while since I did one, but when I saw my prompt, I was inspired to do something.

The prompt for this challenge is randomly generated and every one is funny, a bit off, but full of inspiration!

Here is the prompt that I recieved:

The painfully shy, German grandmother who feeds the pigeons and secretly plays the lotto.

And here is what I came up with!

Grandma Ba-bam-ee

Doesn't Fight the Lottery

Grandma Ba-bam-ee

Sits on her German fanny

Counting her docket

Deep in her pocket.

She finds bird seed

And pigeon feed,

Some torn tweed

And a type of greed.

The birds were feeding

While Grandma was seething;

Still not enough sums

Reaching her thumbs.

Ba-bam-ee needed a ticket

To satisfy her thicket.

The night filled with crickets

And still no ticket!

Tomorrow would be better,

And the pigeons were fatter.

She’d try again

And by summer’s end

She might have enough,

And a little more scruff,

To pay for the fluff

Instead of having to huff.

Grandma Ba-bam-ee would be,

More than you and me,

The richest hag

In all the bag.

No more sitting on benches

With only wrenches

Thrown into her trenches;
A life like the French’s.

Painfully shy

And about to cry

Grandma turned from the lights

Trying to block out city brights.

But the lottery called to her.

It sang and begged of her!

“You can win like before!

A dollar or more!”

Holding her ears so tight

Ba-bam-ee yelled with might,

“You run my life!

Not now! I can’t fight!”

It haunted her dreams,

Pulling at frayed seems.

Cold on the streets,

Needing warm sheets.

Those with homes passed her,

Ignored and suppressed her.

But Grandma stuck up her nose,

Struck a daunting pose,

Walked to the park,

Sat down by the arc,

Fed the lark,

No lack of spark.

She had a good life,

Before this strife,

But never was she more content

When she found a cent.

She’d hid it away

Until came the day

When it would pay

And take her away.