Tomorrow’s Dream

What do I want tomorrow

I ponder this riddle often

Pretending I control those plans

Reasons fly away like bats

Never upon straight moonbeams

Cascading upward, dust in breezes

Idling meanings with purposes

Proclaiming territory on receding tide

I can explain everything clearly

I have no knowledge of why or how

As this sun sinks to the netherworld

My eyes create what will be forward

When the clouds obscure my vision

I’ll repeat this over aftermorrow too

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Lost Days of Youth – Wordle #174

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1. turn signal
2. corrupt
3. pester
4. swain [a young lover or suitor|a country youth]
5. gibbous moon [any moon that appears more than half lighted but less than full is called a gibbous moon. The word gibbous comes from a root word that means hump-backed]
6. fen [a low and marshy or frequently flooded area of land|flat low-lying areas of eastern England, formerly marshland but largely drained for agriculture since the 17th century|wetland with alkaline, neutral, or only slightly acid peaty soil]
7. brunette
8. bombshell [an overwhelming surprise or disappointment|a very attractive woman|an artillery shell]
9. Lilliputian [trivial or very small|a trivial or very small person or thing|early 18th century: from the imaginary country of Lilliput in Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels, inhabited by people 6 inches (15 cm) high]
10. mawkish [sentimental in a feeble or sickly way|having a faint sickly flavor]
11. melodious
12. garage

I would pester her. The brunette bombshell whose melodious voice could corrupt my every thought. But like some mawkish lilliputian werewolf want-to-be, I waited upon a gibbous moon to become full and set me free.

I realize with no car in the garage, i was no more than a swain. The person driving down the road left turn signal stuck on like i had no idea when to turn. And when i did, there I was stuck in fen, knee deep in ooze.

Sunday Whirl – Personalities

You challenge me with a route teeming with pretense. I should jump at the dearth of shock you attempt. How is it possible one could care so lightly? Not as individual drug, nor bulk helps to deal with you.

Saturday Mix – Just to be Sure

“He was such a shallow man. Always try to show he had risen above hi snake like personality. Glad to see you succumb to illness.” Tina kicks dirt into the open grave. Her pale thin face sneaks a peek at the five other mourners. “It’s go to see you in the hole but it should be much further. I’d put you below Hell. Maybe that’s deep enough.”

Tina fakes a dab at her eyes. “They came just to be sure you’re dead also!”

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/10/14/saturday-mix-opposing-forces-14-october-2017/

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/succumb/”>Succumb</a&gt;

First Line Friday – An Ill Wind

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The autumn chill descended over the town and with it came rot and ruin. October’s breath plays in the streets. Dense blanket of fog keep the Sun at bay. Breezes swirl but lift nothing but a few leaves. The stiffling scent of certainly wasn’t moving away.

The Almira dogs stop their incessant howling. Sounds fail as silence takes a bite from the hustle and bustle of Suburbia. Wood creaks,slightly muffed like under a rug. Two mutts slowly back away from the fence made of chicken wire and old beams. Wood crumbles. Wire rusts through instantly. Tentatively they take their last steps.

Trees sway above. The fog moves a little further. The stench lingers. Upon the next house, another life falls.

FFAW – River Runs

“I love the sound of the river. God, those engines fighting the inevitable current! They surge!” Timothy taps his fingers on a wooden crate. “If they stop, the thing goes sideways.”

Timothy tugs down the brim of his ball cap. His eyes roll along the viaduct. Empty as always during the morning. The Sun has yet to bring out the second round of fishermen.

“Well, time to loosen the load. I hope you can swim….” Timothy’s voice raises slightly. “Oh yeah…Good luck with the crate, ropes and gag.”

Timothy pushes the long narrow crate to the edge of the tailgate. A sudden shift in weight drops it to the concrete surface inches from the water.

“Don’t worry those bags of sand won’t hurt soon. The water takes all that weight away. It sounds like it knocked the wind out of you.” Timothy pushes it end over end til a loud splash splits the surface.

155 words

3Line Tales – Psychic Ad

“Are you sure someone can read it in a hundredth of a second?” Shiela looks upward.

“World’s Greatest Psychic seemed presumptuous, so…” Gabriel looks at her.

“But can they read it?!” Shiela questions

#3linetales

Wordle – Night Moves

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1. bough
2. distils [*alternate spelling of distills]
3. owls
4. musk [a strong-smelling reddish-brown substance that is secreted by the male musk deer for scent-marking and is an important ingredient in perfumery| a relative of the monkey flower that was formerly cultivated for its musky perfume, which has been lost in the development of modern varieties| *late Middle English: from late Latin muscus, from Persian mušk, perhaps from Sanskrit muṣka ‘scrotum’ (because of the similarity in shape of a musk deer’s musk bag)]
5. viol [a musical instrument of the Renaissance and baroque periods, typically six-stringed, held vertically and played with a bow]
6. stained
7. swagger
8. sodden
9. strike
10. tinctured [be tinged, flavored, or imbued with a slight amount of| denoting a dye or pigment|‘imparted quality,’ likened to a tint imparted by a dye]
11. cowslip [a European primula with clusters of drooping fragrant yellow flowers in spring, growing on dry grassy banks and in pasture]
12. villain

The owls swagger within the boughs of the apple tree. Their song reminiscent of a viol. It strikes a nerve like a villain.

My nightly trek. Moonlight harvesting of cowslip for tinctured distils. Instead my sweat sodden clothes smell of cheap musk. This night stains my mind. There something unnatural about.

Ambitious- wordle 320

I struggle with my fringe power. It’s mysteries swirl then list like shooting star. My brain storms new roads to charge down. At last comes a sigh. I have gone nowhere.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2017/10/07/wordle-320/

Swirls in the Mind

Thoughts swirl

Like creamer in coffee

Filaments loosely connected

Running like a child

Splashed like a mud puddle

Togetherness for chaos sake only

Rainbow raindrops falling

Without landing on thirty ground

Their mystery cloaked in abstract

Scattered puzzle pieces

Awaiting the hand to assemble

Only fear is that they are meaningless