Switchgrass, or: Sweet switchel

Switchgrass, swelter, swinking, sweaty 
swivet; thoughts swiftly swirling; swollen, 
swimming eyes; oh! Oh, but to swinge 
that swift, swarthy swindler!

The swashbuckling swine hadn’t swithered, 
swiftly swiping; swith, swiveling, switching 
hands, leaving his lady swooning, swirling her 
sweet switchel on Swiss porch swing… 


The above poem is my take on d’Verse’s Quadrille challenge #123.

The quadrille is simply a poem of 44 words (excluding the title), and it can take any form. This week’s challenge was to use the word “swift” in a quadrille.

63 thoughts on “Switchgrass, or: Sweet switchel”

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