NaPoWriMo challenges you to write a poem in which you take your title or some language/ideas from The Strangest Things in the World. First published in 1958, the book gives shortish descriptions of odd natural phenomena, and is notable for both its author’s turn of phrase and intermittently dubious facts. Perhaps you will be inspired by the “The Self-Perpetuating Sponge” or “The World’s Biggest Sneeze.” Or maybe the quirky descriptions of luminous plants, monstrous bears, or the language of ravens will give you inspiration.

In the hushed verdure of twilight’s embrace,
where the shadows gather to converse in grace,
there blooms a spectacle unseen by day,
in the garden where the luminous plants sway.

Amidst the leaves that glow soft and bright,
under the gaze of the moon’s gentle light,
whispers float from the monstrous bears,
telling tales in the cool night air.

The Self-Perpetuating Sponge resides here, too,
a marvel of nature, forever renewing, ever true.
It drinks from the tears of the midnight dew,
growing silently in the hues of a spectral blue.

Far above, the ravens speak in cryptic tones,
their language etched in the ancient stones.
They chatter of secrets, of shadows, of bones,
of things hidden under the earth’s old moans.

And there, the World’s Biggest Sneeze once blew,
where the wind caught its echo and wildly flew.
It stirred the leaves, the stars, and the silent flue,
a gust that through the strange garden tore and flew.

These wonders, penned in the curious night’s ink,
stretch the canvas of reality to its brink.
Here, in pages turned with a thoughtful blink,
lies the world—strange and vast—a link.

So wander the paths of the luminous garden gate,
where oddities and marvels patiently await.
Read the earth’s odd script, its mythical slate,
in the book of the world, both small and great.