A serious limerick Sometimes, I lock truths up in my heart for fear they could tear me apart. I can but haw and hem when I think to speak them, and when writing... even to start... smarts.
A limerick On my frail days, life's a whale of a fail. Basic emails weigh like heavy travails. Raising up grail of peace, I can't avail of release, for, ailed and pale, I forget to exhale. ‘What do you see’ Prompt #130 For Sadje’s weekly #WDYS prompt, she offered the photo below (taken by Matt Barringer) as inspiration for writers… Continue reading Frail days, or: Whelming
A nonet Anxiety is merely four syl~ lables: 'anx', an abbrevia~ tion for 'thanks' (for what, exact~ ly?) for one's all-consum~ ing I? e(eeeeeee), panic ringing 'tween one's ears; t(ea)? Yes! Chamo~ mile. Nonet? A nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second line eight syllables, the third line seven syllables,… Continue reading Chamomile? or: Lavender?