Tag Archives: The Sunday Whirl

Last-Minute Menu Changes

Last-Minute Menu Changes

My ravenous cats lurk up on the roof
while my dogs all remind me in language of woof
that they’re hollow with hunger and rattled by need
of kibble and catfood to fulfill their greed
for something to fill up space found in their tummies:
chicken or beef or those jerky stick yummies.
Now the dogs rush the door in their need to be seen,
push open the glass door  and rattle the screen.
With a flicker of tail, they crash once and again
into the door screen ’til they have slipped in,
and both dogs and cats leap onto my bed,
shaming their mom, whose face has turned red
with embarrassment over the fact she forgot
to go shopping for food for the whole furry lot!
So I leap from my bed and run down the hall,
pursued by my dogs and my cats, one and all.
Run into the kitchen and throw open the door
of the fridge, then I spread out all over the floor
the food I’d intended to feed to a guest
whom I had invited with all of the rest
of his family to dine–the roast and the cheese
I had purchased because I knew it would please
all my guests–the potatoes and veggies and flan
and I watched all my animals lick every pan
until it was empty of every food scrap,
then they lay on the floor for an after-meal nap
while I wandered in and climbed into my bed
to try to decide what I’d feed instead
to those guests who’d arrive in just 4 hours more.
Then I dressed and departed to drive to the store
to buy frozen pizzas and ice cream and cake
out of which a quick meal I’d return home and make,
shooing out of the kitchen those pets now sedated
once their fierce hunger was finally  abated.
The floor now licked clean, it was one task the less
I’d have to complete. They’d cleaned up their own mess!
So I mixed up a salad and set a fine table
and completed the meal as best I was able.
Poured tequila, cooked pizza and uncorked the wine.
The guests were well-pleased and my pets lay supine
both on terrace and roof or snug in their beds
while visions of roast beef careened through their heads.
And lest you wonder, I’ll say one thing more.
I bought kibble and cat food while there at the store!

 

For the Sunday Whirl Wordle 751, the prompt words are: ravenous lurked shame space found glass hollow flicker rattled slip red crash

“The Full Story” for The Sunday Whirl

The Full Story

Thinking creatures don’t mind visiting those rumbles in their heads
that contain their darkest thoughts––both phobias and dreads––
that exist alongside their wishes, hopes and dreams.
For writers, criminals and gods seem to exist in teams,
walking through their consciousness, sometimes in equal measure,
as though they know that gold and dirt are equally a treasure
when it comes to spinning tales that reflect all the world they see.
So, at story time, we flock like children to their knee
to hear the truth of all the world––its laughter and its wails––
for life consists of tragedies as well as  pretty tales,

Prompts for The Sunday Whirl are: mind visit thinking creature exists criminal know dirt walk head writer rumbles (Image created with the aid of AI)

Popsicle Etiquette

Popsicle Etiquette

Snap apart this summer sweetness and share it with a friend.
Or, before you finish, it will melt from end to end,
running down your hand and then half way up your arm,
and though you feel that arm-licking is part of summer’s charm,
the taste of cherry mixed with sunscreen resin isn’t fun,
as your rush to finish turns into a race against the sun.
So take your frosty passion and snap it into two
and ask a friend to partake of its lusciousness with you.
Then if you are lucky, your friend will buy one more,
break it apart and hand you half as you leave the store.

Word Prompts for The Sunday Whirl 749 are: taste summer sweetness snap rush half resin turn melts luck hand

War Games for The Sunday Whirl

War Games

Those bitter hopes that sting one’s mind
are wishes of the futile kind
that make us restless, turn us odd
as we assume that frail facade
that we think hides our fears and doubt
about what this new world’s about.
Massive ills that strip our world
as daily missiles are unfurled
to hit those cities torn by war
 to stem the orange monarch’s roar––
his curiosity to quell
concerning this day’s nouveau Hell
unleashed upon the place he names
to be the target for his games
of fire and brimstone, bomb and gun––
war games he invents for fun!!

For The Sunday Whirl, the prompt words are: facade doubts curiosity bitter torn hit restless hope massive frail strip sting

Garden Warfare for The Sunday Whirl

And at the end of the day, leaf cutters still busy!

A colony of  thousands of leaf-cutter ants forms a chain to file in an orderly fashion around my house to my large Virginia Creeper vine that hangs over my terrace. It is their intention to crunch the life out of leaf after leaf by grasping them in their razor jaws and slicing off neat packages to carry off to their nest.

I rattle the tiny logs of ant poison in the can to spill several small lines of poison over their trail, then scan the procession to watch them carry them off. I hate killing any part of nature, still I have a hunch that if I don’t fight back, that they will strip the entire garden of its leaves–every vine, plant and tree. As I fit the lid back on the can, I try to reassure myself that in most encounters in nature, one creature loses while the other wins. This is part of the plan. But still, I experience guilt as I watch yet another ant carry a pellet back to its nest.

Prompts for The Sunday Whirl 747 are: colony rattling still lose crunch life fits hunch scan packages grasping chains.

A Chill Wind

A Chill Wind

The ghosts of leaves take shelter in the edges of my garden,
scraps settling in hidden piles, as if asking the pardon
of roses trembling on the vine, left to face the frost
that is surely coming, and they know at what a cost.
Stepping around rocks that have encroached upon the path,
I pick one last remaining rose to save it from the wrath
of winter that approaches day by day by day
to ice the flesh of growing things and crumble them away.

 

For the Sunday Whirl Wordle the prompt words are: shelter settle rose rocks edge step messy flesh left ghost tremble scrap. (Yes.. I admit I left “messy” out. You can take 8.3333 points off my score!)

“Night Casting” for The Sunday Whirl

 

Night Casting

When the sun puts on its midnight shroud,
we cease to air our thoughts aloud.
Moonlight trails across our bed,
leaving tracks within our head,
creating symbols that rock our dreams
’til brought to light with morning’s beams.
Then words remembered from the night
are ones we claim as we recite,
promising they are our own,
captured by that spear we hone
to probe the waters of the night
for words like fish that cross our sight
and thus are brought to light of day
by means of stories that we say
are our creation, although it seems
they’re really thoughts stolen from dreams.

For The Sunday Whirl Wordle, prompt words are:
shroud symbols water rock sun tracks spear stolen cross promise moon trail. Photos created with AI.

“Shipwreck of State” For The Sunday Whirl, Feb 8, 2026

Shipwreck of State

The ship of state spins crazily, splitting at the sails.
Not a breathe of wind to fill its wings as it hesitates and fails.
It cringes as the cracks form on its masthead and beneath
and it runs ashore to crumble into pieces on the heath.
By no stretch of faith can those who watch fail to feel the quaking
as the whole world shudders at this chaos in the making.

For The Sunday Whirl the prompt words are: split cringe breathe pieces wings cracks beneath hesitates stretch ship spin chaos. Illustration created with the help of AI.

Golden Idols, For The Sunday Whirl Wordle

Golden Idols

Untethered tendrils of memory weave through my agenda for the day, sparking wonder as they strike against those walls the modern world prompts us to erect. But too soon, the flame of memory falls to ash as it confronts harsh reality. Dare we renew that faith that led us for so many years through our earlier life? New gods less holy than those of our youth construct golden idols whose weight those who should be our leaders cower beneath. Truth cloaked by greed, too many of our formerly trusted messengers play their game, sending false messages below headlines that label them as News.

The The Sunday Whirl Wordle prompts are: below renew weaves through cloaks holy untethered tendrils gods spark ash wonder

Wheel of Seasons for The Sunday Whirl

 

 

Wheel of Seasons

A morning walk in autumn with warm sun overhead
Is something in the winter that you might approach with dread.
With a hood pulled round your head and chin, although the view is nice,
you’re bound to cross a wonderland of frost and snow and ice.
You pull your cape around you from your shoulders to your knees,
hoping three layers of garments with circumvent the freeze.
Saved by the certain knowledge that the great wheel of the year
will in months give rise to springtime as it slips another gear.

Words for The Sunday Whirl Wordle 741 are: wonderland bound morning ice knees hope wheel three cape head cross