Reach out 

Today we have a theme wordle as suggested by my husband. The other senses will be treated separately. Feel free to add additional sound words to your poem.

1. Pumice

2. Sodden


4. Angular

5. Cleft

6. Prickly

7. Bristly

8. Malleable

9. Coarse

10. Satin

11. Rigid

12. Feverish

13. Barbed

14. Viscous (of a glutinous nature or consistency;sticky; thick; adhesive.)

15. Tangible (capable of being touched;discernible by the touch; materialor substantial. real or actual, rather thanimaginary or visionary)

Use at least 12 of the words to create a story or poem (we have fifteen this time)

The words can appear in an alternate form

Use the words in any order that you like.

Tag: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and Wordle

Ping or leave your link in the comments below

My pumice skin cringes.  Your waxy complexion and alligator tear leave me sodden.  The moisture of your expression undermines your prickly, bristle personality.  Had I known you were malkable…

I left with coarse undertones.  Satin nights of feverish moments juxtaposed rigid tangible barbed  wire tying us together.  You touch is a viscous gel that offers irritation .

Written as part of a challenge, details are available at https://



Light sleeps in a bit longer

It’s subtle incrouchment of darkness

Air turns more quickly as humidity changes

Cool nights leave window wide open

Crickets chirp loading in desperation 

Plants like asters and iron weed come to bloom

Stars shine a little brighter above

Moon light nights seem brighter

Underneath it all the change is coming

Goodbye long summer evenings

Animals have taken more of the night

They left the day to build for a winter

Plants hurriedly push forth seeds

Birds raid them mercilessly while they can

Things still grow up and fruit still sets

But the colors of them are different

The smells in the air are fuller and stay

My blue sky incredibly clear and bright

But it hides air from the North

Cooler temperatures hide in shadows

Eighties become sixties in a blink

The fall is coming soon to waits at the door

September comes in like a their in the night

Calm, quiet, subtle and leaves with Summer

Then an artists brush covers its tracks in the trees

Action News

“It’s 5pm!  I’ll go hit a bus load of nuns, if I have too.” Mr Cooper waves his fist in the air. “We have 45 minutes to find something in that Damn  copter for the 6 o’clock lead!”

“Sir,the police scanner is quiet except for a puppy rescue.” William Dare looks at his boss like this is below the award winning investigative reporter.

“You’ll be doing Public Service Announcements if we get scooped on this story, Billy Boy!” Mr Cooper looks through his soul. “We made up accidents in my day!   Stock footage and hand edited too!  You’re all soft.  The news is a work of art! Precious opera of life!  I’d give my right arm for another round of it!”

“This is Willam Dare.” He interfaces himself to the firemen.

“You’re an idiot! You chased the dog back in the sewer with that helicopter!” Eric looks over him and his cameraman.

Behind them Channel 10 films the whole conversation.  They weren’t scoped, just the lead story instead.

Written as part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, details are available at

Dreams of Dreams

Soft images bleed together

What I clearly see fades to yellow

A mystical sun parts unknown clouds

Sunrise at waist level washes clean a world unknown 

Shadows cling on the edges waiting 

Mountains share ocean breezes as sand drifts by

People I remember look like mannequins

Waiting to be added or removed from the stage

My heart picks at them hoping this time they join in

Pulse and breath make a backbeat to still moments

I look upon the landscape of my conscious 

My fears dance with my desires, a two step 

It’s hideous beauty resonant in every feature

Focus bares a new scene, the players are set

A curtain parts to begin Act 1, Scene 1

I remember her, so lovely and cold

It was how many years ago

And him, we drink and talked for days

But you, who are you?!  What plans come from you?

I fall into a thousand color world

Bits become images, sounds words

The dream is more alive than I am.

Photo Prompt # 127 Maiden of the Cove

Her glowing lantern guides her way.  The gentle waters raise and fall giving her a dance across the seabed. She would float despite the tides anyway.  It’s her full moon tradition to visit the shallow wrecks.  Their hulls and beams strattle sandbags the reach out to the in coming season.  Gentle bar of unspeakable horror.  

Her trip is a necessary one.  She roams these coasts on those clear moon filled nights .  Back to where she entered the water.  Over and over again.  Maybe this time she will find the family that floated off.  Maybe they lived.  She’ll never know unless they cross paths in these moon filled nights. 

Written as part of a challenge, details are available at:

Beware the Cape – Epilogue

Moons pass her quickly now.  Jezzibelle, four decades past her wolf story, stares at 16 year old granddaughter.  She has bestowed a red velvet cape.  A shadow of the one her Grandmother gave her.  Every facial feature, every long flowing blonde hair, every bit of her former shape confronts her.

Heidi looks at the red cape and pushes her chocolate eyes to her adoring Grandmother.  “It’s beautiful!  I’ve never felt such soft fabric.  It’s my favorite color, too!!”

“You’ll be the center of attention everywhere you go, my darling.  Wear it well. Head high, hair slightly covered.  I had one once.  It was back when I was your age.  I was the littlest one.  It was my first piece of new clothing.  I wore beautifully repaired hand me downs.  But beware, the attention has a price.  You need to be careful of what people want from you.” She looks down at her former self in marvel.

“I know your story!  I can’t believe that was you.  You are not the wild type!  You are old and slow.  I think of how you most have looked when you were my age.  But your eyes are much bigger.  Your eyes are much bigger.  And they say you had a sharp tongue.  I see none of those in me.” Heidi smiles an innocent smile, that hides secrets.  Grandmothers know the smile well.

“Remember child.  I moved here to start a new life. I was once much like you.  As once I stand here now, soon you shall be in my place.  The secrets come out in the wash. Now, little one, it’s time to open the shop for the day.  Put on your red cape, Le Pettit Chaperon Rouge Chocolate shop waits for no one!”  Grandmother doesn’t promise her the house or the business.

The trail of breadcrumbs starts here…

Leap Previously Known As

Cliff edges make great starting points

My youth gathered on ones higher and higher

Landing is always the problem not the flight

Winds could hold up any dreamer with closed eyes

It’s the brain that tells you the ground is approaching

Your heart doesn’t leave the sky and the birds

Thrill and dreams are twins from the same mother

We tend to pay more attention to the wrong one

Wings of steel have become clipped and feathered

For too long my cliff has waited for my return

Too long I felt the winds tug at my heartstrings

I remember the song, I remember the landing

The flight is long gone, not pictures left

The edge is calling, the birds call to join them

With a sense of thrill and terror, I leap

My eyes clinched shut and head turned skyward

Feeling of freedom return to an older soul

Smells of forests swirl amongst strong winds

My mind tells me landing is always the problem

My heart says enjoy the flight

The Watch

I was early.  Noon was coming fast.  I can’t believe the colors on stones that cover the ocean front.   It’s a rainbow of adventuring, amethyst, Jasper, and quartz.  My mind captured by rough seas that near come in to break on the shore.

Four winds point. Bearing the watch and its symbol I wait.  The place of storms gives birth soon.  Her next hurricane with come in a wisp.  If I live, it’ll take me,around the world.  If I have the watch.

Written as part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, details are available at