The SPRIG of heather I hold barely weighs an OUNCE, it’s
picked from the purple FROCK spread on the hillside WHOLE.
Morning LIGHT shines from a TURBO-charged sunrise,
POSITs encircling calm to the wind’s weathering WHINE.
[There seemed to be two sets of words available, so I used them both.]
Ha! I got mixed up and posted my poem for today yesterday. Further, I didn’t have the words post right and it was blank. Struggling to keep up. Busy schedule. I have to say, your photo game is the best. And nice double Quordle poem, as well.
Thanks…always fun to try a double quordle, and surprising what turns up.