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…
Swish…
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.
super swaggy 😎
Thank you so much, Poorvi!
🙂
David