The woman brushes past my sleeve, the FLIRT!
My heart rushes, as if to leave my chest, to FLOAT!
And like the moon, now blushing, waned or WAXEN,
Is crushed to see she weaves towards another. Fickle WOMAN!
Harmony
A GENT at the soiree, suave, sang
TENOR. A fierce lady knee-gripped her
CELLO, firmly, scurrying notes. He,
REGAL, stood steadfast, yet outstripped her.
While minding your own business…
SNAKEs sneak up on you. You may be sitting on a
BENCH, and next thing, there’s a snake begging for a few
PENCE, hissing at you, flashing its fangs. No mercy!
CLASP it by the neck and tail, twirl it and toss it!
Choices
BERET or chapeau, sir; what’s for today? Brilliant or
BLAND, witty or weighty, where do you stand? Are you
CHALK or cheese, sir, all talk or tease, sir, should you
CHECK your mood at the door, sir, near the hatstand.
Marching as to war
Being ever so slightly jittery, I whistle a little DITTY –
or dittery, if you want it to rhyme. I march on the FLANK
of a glittery army, marching in time. I bank on the MARCH-
ing battery to keep us from harm, to give us some TEETH;
since mine are so ever so chattery – like my heart underneath.
Today we present the new five-line DQP.
The hick dines out
FILET Mignon considers itself a superior cut of steak – don’t
GORGE it down. You’ll make it frown. Don’t let the restaurant
SINGEr distract you, though she is superior too. If a fez-hatted
TUBER-player can accompany her, and she stay sweet, consider your meat.
Coincidence?
That
GLASS and HOUSE should appear in the same Quordle
is like four words in Connections making immediate sense.
But
for EXIST and FINAL to appear together is existent-
ial. It makes the brain dawdle – hobbled – and warble
like the magpies: Quardle oodle ardle wardle doodle!
Piece o’ me mind
FAITH! gal, yous wants yer hair cut like yer pop-star
IDYLL? Yer think I’m some magic hair stylist that can
RECUT yer hair to get that shape? Away with yer now,
take yer fancy pitchers off home to yer Mam, yer young SASSY.
Discuss in 43 words
The
ENVOY, I’m now told, is an author’s concluding words:
as in ‘as death does part,’ or the end of a TREND?
SMACK me round the earhole if I say that’s for the birds:
I have cruddy endings scattered all around my STUDY.
The good old days
YOUNG I am not; I remember with joy (not!) a
WHACK on the head or the hand (with a strap) brought
GLOOM to the school day, a kind of insouciant
FRILL (not a thrill) for some; for others a time fraught.