Tag Archives: Wordle

“Three Words” Wordle 607 for The Sunday Whirl

Three Words

Words shake loose like feathers from my morning head,
ascending, then descending to my night-tossed bed.
Caught here between dreams and thought, I try to lift a hand
to capture words before they have a chance to land.

I find I’ve cupped a poem, but then I set it free,
hoarding just three words that I have saved for thee.
It’s words that build the roads that storytellers  pave—
like the one I build for you out of  the words I save.

I seek to pull your love to me by my words’ emotion
rather than by trickery or by magic potion.
These simple words are everything that I choose to say.
Pressed into your palm, they beckon, “Come this way.”

Words for Wordle 607 are: ascending morning head dreams between hand road storytellers poem potion feather three

Day and Night, For Wordle 603

Day and Night

Every night when you emerge to climb down from your heart
and shed your daily mystery, you become a part
of what we were before they clashed—my daily life and yours—
before I rubbed against your nerves  and you shut certain doors.
The very night bows down to gather round the slivered moon,
arched lighter on the verge of it, celebrating June.
You forsake your manly bearing and go against your grain,
show flashes of your tenderness that I’ve sought out in vain.
This is our nightly honeymoon that makes the day a breeze,
limbering up the stiffness and thawing out the freeze.

For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 603 the prompts are: heart you emerge night climb bow grain mystery clash flashes verge bearing The photo is of Rosemary and Jim, both now sadly departed. They were not a couple but I love this photo and thought it formed a good illustration for the poem.

Love Story After Rain, for NaPoWriMo 2023, Day 25 and Wordle 319

Love Story After Rain

If I had a penny for each
of all my thoughts of you,
my dear, I’d buy us lollipops
for one hand,
yellow tulips for the other

and as the rainbows disappear,
replaced by brighter clouds,
stay near—
as we have been wont to do,

everybody else
except us,
your sunshine drying
up the puddles.

Do not seek to join us,
We are enough—

with pollen
to our lips and fingers,
silly grins.

Love story after rain.

For Wordle 319 the prompt words are: sunshine lollipops rainbows disappear join stay near penny together brighter cloud everybody

Also, for NaPoWriMo, the prompt challenges us to write a love poem, one that names at least one flower, contains one parenthetical statement, and in which at least some lines break in unusual places.

“Nightmares,” for Wordle 601


One night out of ten I ride these ghostly horses.
They toss their heads and whinny as they take me through their courses.
They are the wandering skeletons of a bygone life
when I was a child or when I was a wife.
They remind me of my promises and break them once again,
replay all the suffering of places I have been.
They point out what I wanted and what I didn’t get,
relate every failure and recall every debt.
They nightly make me prisoner and make me walk the walk.
They bring me to my knees, my head upon the block
as my past life streams before me and I listen to the chatter
of all those bygone comments I was convinced didn’t matter.
How I dread their hoofbeats, these horses of the night,
and how glad I am they vanish with the coming of the light.


For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 601 the prompts are: block call promise dreams stream life wandering skeletons want knees suffering listen

Fly-Bye on the Day of the Dead

Fly-Bye on the Day of the Dead

That fly that chose to falter
for a minute on the altar
I’d constructed for my lover
should have made the choice to hover.

The worst choice of all
was to choose to land and crawl
attracting my attention
to a means of his detention.

Namely, to kill the squatter
with a switch of my fly swatter.
Though he was silent ever after,
no more soaring floor and rafter,

it was I who did the gasping,
for the bottle he was clasping
of my mourned-ones favorite drink
soared out to shatter in the sink.

Thus in the battle between darter
and me, he was the martyr
while I strained my funny bone
accepting actions to atone

by cleaning glass shards from the table
and all places I was able
to reach within the kitchen
without grumbling and bitchin’.

Then I quickly made a trip
to buy a sticky strip
so future flies would be defeated
and my actions not repeated.


Prompts For the Sunday Swirl Wordle 600
are: bones gasping strip switch shatters battle fly altar martyr bottle crawl falter

Also for NaPoWriMo

Re-Generation, Wordle 592


Once I realized culture owned me, still I had no will to change,
for alternate modes of living are so hard to arrange.
Yet I set out to mold me to be different from the crowd
and I have done so well at it that I admit I’m proud.

First I got a nose ring and then I got tattooed.
I push my way up to the front where formerly I queued.
Whereas once I used the phrase that “You’re so very very,”
I finally invested in the Urban Dictionary.

So while I was once “with it,” now finally I’m so “dope,”
that this former Boomer will soon be Gen Z, I hope.
I regret all those years when I pressed front seams in my jeans,
but now that I have shredded them, I feel I’m in my teens.

Now that I’m a “meme”ing master and Snap Chat is a snap,
I’m expert in my dissing and I’ve reversed my cap.
Now that I have changed so much,  I feel I’m at my best
in becoming different exactly like the rest!!


For the Sunday Whirl 592 the prompt words are: culture realized owned first proud change me here dictionary


The Old Homestead: For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 590


(Click on photos to enlarge.)

The first photo is of my grandparents and two aunts and their families. The third photo is my dad and his cousins, my grandmother Jane and her sister Susie and my oldest sister Betty Jo as a child.

The Old Homestead

Its barn is thick with echoed thrust
of wings long faded into dust.
The barn owl hunts no rodent ghosts,
no drumming wings the still air boasts.

Those boards you walked now topped with blooms
of mildew, mold and wild mushrooms
that cling and spread and flood the room
with peaceful quiet and sombre gloom.

What footfalls that you might have made
are soon absorbed and so they fade.
Your presence, vital long ago
barely interrupts the flow

of time that passes here so slow.
No lowing cattle, no rooster’s crow.
No bleat of lamb, no donkey’s bray.
All that once was has passed away.

For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 590 the prompt words are: barns thick clung topped blooms walked spread drumming faded hunt peace floods

Life with Dogs, Déjà Vu for Sunday Whirl Wordle 589

Déjà vu. For some reason these prompt words for the Sunday Whirl Wordle 589 led me into a restatement of a blog I wrote 14 hours ago in what felt like the late hours of yesterday but what were really the early hours of today. It was to me as though I’d only thought it before and not written it down. It was only after I’d written this and reread the earlier blog that I realized I’d told the same story twice in different words. These are the prompt words you’ll find repeated below in the story:  lockdown watch danger hunt challenge glass flesh gathering disrupt murder craft cut

Life with Dogs

Well after lockdown, my sentinels are watchful for any signs of danger. Even after their eyes close and their flesh surrenders to sleep, their ears hunt for signs of murder, mayhem or possums. I am fully awake minutes after their last return from a wild charge out the space left by the sliding glass door which I have left open the width of the security bars so they can exit as needed, not to meet the challenge of intruders, but rather to execute those calls of nature which I am most sympathetic with, being of that age when at the least one or two calls of nature disrupt my sleep nightly.

Darkness gathers me into its arms as I close my eyes once more and finally find a position comfortable enough to remain in for the remainder of the night when once again, Zoe’s loud high sliding crescendo of a bark cuts through the darkness, her claws cutting into my stomach as she uses it for a launching pad off the bed and out the door. These are the movements of a gymnast performing her high leaps with seemingly no effort—more an art than a craft—and my ears strain to hear any noise of combat, any running feet or crashing through the bushes and over the wall. Instead I hear one high keening scream, quickly cut off. It is a sound I’ve never heard before and I imagine some small creature giving voice to its death protest or a possum giving a squeal of warning , but the dog is back again so quickly that I can’t imagine any combat has occurred.

Another past-midnight mystery of life with dogs. I roll over on my left side to reach over the side of the bed and lift Zoe up for the third time this evening, and when I do, Coco crawls into the warm spot I have left. Rolling back to the right again, I push hard against her to reclaim my space and Zoe moves into the space that I make on the left side as I do so, then walks with no guilt over my breast an stomach to settle herself into the cleft between my legs. I move them apart slightly to settle some of her weight onto the mattress and try to settle myself back to sleep.

Costume Check: The Sunday Whirl Wordle #588

Costume Check

Let me stand here for a moment hidden in the shade,
for my tank top strap is broken right by my shoulder blade.
I’ll shuffle off to mend it when the band starts up again,
but will stand here nearly silent as a statue until then.

My arms are wrapped around me, holding things in place,
for with one side that’s set free, I’m not ready to face
the folks up in the grandstand staring down at me.
Their half-time entertainment I do not want to be!

I’m a living manifestation of how things fall apart,
for the garment that once hugged my frame now hangs below my heart.
The breeze blows yellow pollen downward from the trees
to coat my arms and shoulders and makes me want to sneeze.

Oh that I’d brought the handy shawl Mom thought that I should bring,
I’d now be in the powder room, fixing everything.
Instead, I stand here cross-armed wishing eyes could be averted
so their perusals of my chest could thereby be diverted.

Prompts for The Sunday Whirl Wordle are: shoulder powdery wraps broken shuffle blade stand moment again nearly silence. Image by Racool on Freepix.

New Years Eve: Wordle 586

New Years Eve

Scraps of mindless party chatter
whispered behind backs don’t matter.
Clink of glasses, passed hors d’ouvres,
mastering those party nerves.

Which old boyfriend is a rat?
Which college roommate got so fat?
How have you handled life so far?
What new degree? What brand of car?

Be you in hut or stately castle,
lift your glass or raise the wassail.
Quit petty talk and ribald laughter
and in the silence that comes after,

cash in on the quietude,
of this less ribald interlude
to give your thanks for what has passed
and pledge your petty gripes won’t last!

For Wordle 586 The Sunday Whirl the prompt word are: back chatter laughs glasses champ scrap cash rat handle master pass castle