Thursday, August 20, 2026

1916 - The Sirens of Aisle 3

 

The Sunday Whirl presented these twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece. 

siren chanting startled pulse sighs night basket answers heart shape badge stay



The Sirens of Aisle 3


The list is very specific.

Fruit, vegetables, pulses—

All the things that please

The Heart Foundation

And bear its logo,

The badge of dietary approval.

But once there, basket in hand,

The rhythmic beat is heard—

A subliminal calling,

Like primal chanting in the jungle.

Unconsciously, as if in a trance,

The body answers. “Mmmmm….”

Drawn as if posessed,

Towards Aisle 3,

Unable to stay away

From the sirens who call it.

Sirens in the shape of biscuits.  

Chocolate biscuits.

Until, later that night,

When the groceries are unpacked

You find yourself startled 

To find things there

That you have no memory of buying.

A deep breath, a sigh,

But you have them now

And it would be a waste

Not to eat them.

Wouldn’t it?



1915 - A Non-Prophet Organisation

 

MLMM Monday Wordle #490 
presents the following words for us to work with:

dashing, morning, bed, forecast, always, sighed, give, neck, head, warmth, laid, part.



A Non-Prophet Organisation


Morning.

A hand emerges 

from the bed covers

And turns on the radio.

The forecast is upbeat,

Promising sun and warmth.

The rest of the body,

Head, neck, shoulders,

Slide slowly from the cocoon

Where they have been hidden

From the morning chill.

No dashing here—

Glacial speed, give or take.

The curtain is parted—

Rain batters the window.

Rain!  As always, the forecast

Was wayward, off the mark.

He sighed, laid his head

Back on the pillow,

And slipped

Under the covers.


Friday, August 14, 2026

1914 - Chains and Mud

 

The Sunday Whirl presented these twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece. 

keys drumming rare morning lazy humming odd whispers open chain urge ghosts





Chains and Mud


They know, of course,

That their good life

Is supported by those

Living in chains and mud—

But living somewhere else.

Those living in chains and mud

And the ghosts of those

Who preceded them

Keep the machines

Running, humming along.

Money machines.

It has always been so.

On the rare occasions

Of friction, with radicals

Drumming up dissent,

Urging rebellion,

The barons dub them lazy

In pointed editorials.

Should those below

Wish the odd morning off

The tame press divides them,

Spreads whispers of betrayal,

And trust vanishes.

The chains remain intact.

Those with the keys

To open them

Have no intention

Of it being otherwise.









Monday, August 10, 2026

1913 - A Passing Thought

 

MLMM Monday Wordle #489 
presents the following words for us to work with:

once, three, haven, peace, thoughts, why, angry, if, final, love, none, dream


A Passing Thought

We have thoughts
But do thoughts have us? 
Probably not.  Why?
They make us angry.
They convey love.
They create peace—
Or dismantle it.
They torment us
At three in the morning.
There is no escape,
No haven from them.
Or so it seems.
Once they capture your mind,
They seem to have captured you.
But is this really so?
Is it really so final?
Is there no escape? None?
What if thoughts 
Were just dreams,
Just clouds drifting
Across a clear blue sky
And you just watched them 
Passing by?


Thursday, August 06, 2026

1912 - Mulch Ado About Nothing

 

Image by ChatGPT

The Sunday Whirl presented these twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece. 

screams desolate temples bone sparks pit voices follow underworld spiral weave current
Coincidentally, it contains 'bone', the prompt from Poets & Storytellers


Mulch Ado About Nothing.

Do worms scream?
Maybe so.
Rumour has it 
They sing though,
With rich baritone voices
As they weave their way
Through the underworld—
Their temples are the compost pits
Of peels, shells and bones;
Spiralling, twisting, writhing
A pink, tumbling current,
In the sea of mulch and decay.
But no desolate lives for them—
They are both male and female
So, when the sparks of love
Warm their wormy loins,
The coupling that follows
Is doubly satisfying.
Perhaps that is when
They scream.

Wednesday, August 05, 2026

1911 - Painted into a Corner

 

Image nicked from the internet

dVerse Poet's invites us to use some butterfly names in a writing piece.


Painted into a Corner.

He looked at the brochure—
Glumly, quite dejected.
He was ready to give up.
All he wanted to do 
Was paint his bedroom.
In front of him
Was a multi-page matrix
Of coloured squares,
Each neatly labelled.


Appalachian azure
Autumn leaf
Clipper
Clouded yellow
Crimson Patch
Duke of Burgundy
Fatal Metalmark
Fiery skipper
Gatekeeper
Golden birdwing
Golden Hairstreak
Green marble
Large Tortoiseshell
Lustrous copper
Miami Blue
Monarch
Mourning Cloak
Orange Sulphur
Painted Lady
Peacock
Pine Satyr
Rice paper
Rusty-tipped page
Silver Emperor
Silver-banded Hairstreak
Small Wood nymph
Sonoran Blue
Speckled wood
Spring white
Velvet rose
Wandering skipper


"I only wanted 'beige'".



Tuesday, August 04, 2026

1910 - Pastorale

 

 Image by ChatGPT

MLMM Monday Wordle #488 
presents the following words for us to work with:

light, cast, street, tickle, sensitive, view, cool, pigeon, dance, attract, evening, glow



Pastorale

Warm and amber,
The evening light streamed 
Low through the plaza,
Through the tables,
Through the legs,
Through the pigeons,
Drenching everything
In a golden glow
As if bathed in honey.
It tickled the lavender flowers,
And drew long, dancing shadows 
From the bobbing pigeons.
Locals came and gathered
To bask in the fading day,
Drinking wine or coffee,
Dunking biscotti,
Sharing their lives.
Young children danced,
Revelling in the evening warmth.
The pigeons, always sensitive
To rowdy children,
Viewed them with cool disdain—
At a distance.
Whatever was happening elsewhere—
There was peace here.