Tag Archives: The Sunday Whirl

Prophecies, For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 687

Prophecies

Some say the constellations
foretell our narrow fate—
that the evils of our future
they are able to relate.

But if tea leaves swirling in a cup
can reveal the knocks and blows
of the future’s mean misfortunes,
and its undertows,

It is also true a shooting star
can predict a brighter future
as good fortune stitches up each rend
with its healing suture.

With three circles scribbled in the dirt,
I predict future glories—
a psychic precognition
of happier life’s stories.

Curses once faced and overcome,
flames doused with timely rains—
create a reckoning of ashes
that smother fire’s pains.

For The Sunday Whirl  the prompt words are: curses reckoning ashes three circles scribbled flames constellations narrow blows once future 

The first and third photos of Orion and the shooting star are public domain photos downloaded from the internet.

For Sunday Whirl Wordle 686

This strand of freshwater pearls, knocked off the table where a beach vendor was displaying her wares to us, looked so good there,

Night Thoughts

Words strung like pearls on memory’s thread
merely repeat what has often been said.
Whispers of heartaches, sparks of regret,
prick at our senses so we’ll not forget.
Then the witching hour joins us, ringing her bell,
shaking earth from her shoes she has tracked  in from Hell.
An herbed wind shifts vines to whip overhead,
sending stray sojourners straight to their bed.
Then sweeps over cobbles, whisking away
unresolved problems of the past day.

 

For the Sunday Whirl  this week, the words are:

earth herbs cobbled vines thread spark heart whispers witches shifts pearls words

Different Strokes, For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 685.

Click on photos to enlarge.

 

Different Strokes

Some strum the strings. Some scrape the bow. Some cannot sing a note
and so they sit upon the couch and manage the remote.
Dark nights and misty mornings, candles light the way
down stairs and slippery sidewalks deprived of light of day.
The dust of dreams , collected, is spun out by some as art.
Others create fresh music—magic language of the heart.
This poem that I write for you is in a minor key,
for only rather different notes choose to follow me.
So rather than take to my couch and idle life away,
I comb my mind to find these words to see what I might say.

For the Sunday Whirl, word prompts are: remote misty scrape slippery candle fresh dust magic minor strum string follow

Snowfall, For the Sunday Whirl Wordle, Dec 8, 2024

Snowfall

My breath leaves footprints on the window as I watch the fallen snow
holding as its prisoner all that lies below.
The wind shrieks out a warning for humans that might dare
to brave the ever-deepening drifts that they should beware
the captivating mounds of flakes that have drifted down
to spread blankets of reverie over the silent town.
For now, all problems frozen, covered up, put out of mind,
for how can we worry about that we cannot find?
The gale now howls release as it blows the snow away,
removing all that festers to return another day.

For the Sunday Whirl Wordle the words are:
human captivating drift fallen release now shrieks howl festers reverie breath prints

Requiem for a Tyrant, for The Sunday Whirl Wordle Dec. 1, 2024

Requiem for a Tyrant
(Guess Who?)

He will wander from the wide-eyed world into that sacred cave
where past memories assault him—wave on wave on wave,
bringing back on him the agonies, maneuverings and strife,
shattering the safety that cushioned him in life.

Harsh currents froth around him and spray into his eyes—
all his evil actions, his cheating and his lies
strung out to swirl around him, shifting power once again
so he becomes the object of all his former sin.

For The Sunday Whirl Wordle  the word prompts are:frothed waves string face cave spray sacredshift shattered safe wide-eyed world  

Word Salad for the Sunday Whirl Wordle 682

Word Salad

I salvage stories from my history and take them for a walk,
measuring their power as I try them out in talk.
But some words are frayed and tattered by rampant overuse, 
their colors dimmed and emptied of their vital juice.

Fresh fruits plucked from my garden feed a hunger in my soul, 
filling up my spirit’s vast collecting bowl,
yet this garden of the world does not belong to me.
I simply walk its corridors while waiting to be free.

Until that time, my body makes do with what it finds––
plucking out the fruit of words from their obscuring rinds,
mixing them together and hiding them away
to create fresh word salads to serve another day.

 

for The Sunday Whirl Wordle 682 the prompt words are: hungers until garden frayed tattered belonging spirits body salvage history walk stories

The Power of Words, for the Sunday Whirl Wordle 681

The Power of Words

Words stretch the edges of our brains,
nudge our minds toward outer space.
Unrelenting stirs to reason,
presenting thoughts we have to face.
Reason’s scent obscured by magic,
one more sense stretched to its end.
Does its vapor lull or stir us?
What sort of message does it send?

 

For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 681  the prompt words are: stirs scents unrelenting nudged magic stretch face words space edge sense end

The Unhaunting, For the Sunday Whirl Wordle, Nov 10, 2024

The Unhaunting

Ancient ruins cloaked in fog rise from the icy ground,
yet here no restless spirits are likely to be found.
The wind has driven all from this commune of the dead,
and stitched the lace of curling clouds to frequent them instead.
They hover over columns and sail the empty halls,
brushing clear the cobwebs of these once-haunted walls.

For The Sunday Whirl  the prompt words are:cloaked ruins ancient lace communes stitched spirits wind drive curling icy ground

911 for The Sunday Whirl Wordle 679

911

The fire sighs and flips the ravaged timbers to the floor,
sends soaked ashes swirling in currents toward the door.
Blue flames lick at skins of walls, then weave around the beams,
trying to escape the fire fighter’s streams
as they emerge in masks from the house’s inner places,
assassins of those flames who’ve chosen not to show their faces.
Thus is the conflagration robbed of its power and beauty
by this crew that sees extermination as its duty.

For The Sunday Whirl
The prompt words are sighs fire flip ravaged blue floor emerge masks ashes soak skin weave

Imposters, for the Sunday Whirl Wordle #678

Imposters

On this moonlit ghoulish night, the wind plays tricks on us.
It spins around our ghostly wraps and makes the vampires cuss
as all the wicked creatures rise up from the dead
to escape from where they’re buried and do what we all dread.
Within the crypts where they’ve been resting, their hearts just barely beating,
they’ve been plotting to impersonate small kids out trick-or-treating.
They’ll go out ringing doorbells, never once exposing
the fact that they’re real ghosts and goblins, not just children posing.
They’ll grab up all the candy so when the next child begs
for Hershey bars or Reese’s bars, they’ll only get the dregs
the zombies left––the  licorice and the candy corn,
so kids go home with empty bags—crying and forlorn.

This is the spell that witches cast in twenty-twenty-three
when they came out of hiding to see what they could see
And saw small nervy children impersonating witches
and goblins, ghosts and vampires, then making scary pitches
for popcorn balls and candy and other gastric pleasures.
Whereupon the witches decided to take measures
to turn the tables on the kids, they decided on a whim
to teach those kids a lesson by impersonating them!
So this is my fair warning that tonight when your bell rings,
and creatures wearing  witch hats or fangs or other things
first mouth an incantation or issue hearty “Boos,”
then demand that you give candy, lest a trick ensues,

best give them all the Hershey bars met by their greedy eye,
the Reese’s Bars and Milky Ways that they might espy.
But also keep a stash on hand for later in the night
when all professional witches and ghosts have taken flight.
And you hear a feeble knocking of gypsies with tearstained eyes
and ghosts in wrinkled bedsheets and little goblin guys
with smiles all turned upside down and tummies empty of
chocolate and gummy bears and other sweets they love
because their competition has beat them to the knock,
please bring out all that candy that you have kept in stock
to fill the bags of children who come knocking at your door.
These fakers are the real creatures that Halloween is for!

For the Sunday Whirl Wordle, the prompt words are: ghoulish night wind tricks spin wrap spell wicked dead crypt buried within