SHUSH doldrums! Blues begone!
MIRTH wants out, will jolly about.
SKULL may hold life’s full welter, yet
BURST will out a rolling rollick.
Month: November 2022
Goodbye, Lucy
CHUCK runs pell-mell from football held,
WHARF arrived, signs up to merchant marine.
PROXY of his escape: every storm at sea and risk of
WRECK–better, always, than malice on repeat.
2022-11-17 words
SHUSH, MIRTH, SKULL, BURSTS
Whackamole
WHACK a mole, ineffably great mishear and misspell, the
PRINTed ‘guacamole’ on menu unremarked for years,
FREED, finally, posting foodie pics and someone
[E]QUIPs ‘orthographical genius’.
2022-11-16 words
CHUCK, WHARF, PROXY, WRECK
Not quite there yet
PRINT the news that I’ve been
FREED to stand up strong against my foes, to
EQUIP the world from head to toes.
WHACK! What? You gave me a bleeding nose!
2022-11-15 words
WHACK, PRINT, FREED, EQUIP
Raincoat
WRUNG out the soaked, saturated
RAINY-raincoat, feeling choked, abnegated,
FRAIL and revoked, bifurcated, my
MANIA well and truly at work again.
Frail Polis
FRAIL polis survives another contest,
MANIA may be waning, but also vitality:
WRUNG out, spent, knife edged poised:
RAINY days so long now, do we remember the sun?
Story’s flaw
STING of salty tears, remembering:
CIRCA 25, starting to realize the great limits,
DRAMA’s tragic seam, story’s flaw, is who I am.
BELLY for all this waned, then. Yet grace is deep enough.