The Sunday Whirl: Wordle 551

Brenda hosts The Sunday Whirl

pet eternity box trail flash detective check relish planets embellish moon tip

Dreamscape

My mind is flying high as I somersault through space
Looking for eternity, I dash then my slow pace
The planets soar right past me on my way straight to the moon
Knowing of my mission, the end can’t come too soon.
I embellish all my plans with a box that I can check
To see if I am happy, I feel just like a wreck
With my faithful pet beside me, relishing my speed
We leave a trail of silver lightening, a flashbulb is my lead
I act like a detective with a mission to complete
Tips and tricks abound as I rise up to my feet
I see the bed before me and know I was asleep
But the dreams I had regarded remain there, buried deep.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl

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Quiet Strength

She shouldered the burden but laughed at the dawn
With arms stretched wide as mists rose off the lake
She had no fear of what was to come or what would appear again
So she awoke with a blur, feeling life from her head to the tips of her toes
Knowing she had the strength to conquer even the quiet demons that whirred around her.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Sunday Whirl: Wordle 545

Brenda hosts the Sunday Whirl: https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2022/03/20/wordle-545/

Unimaginable Ukraine

Amidst the rubble after the war
The explosions are felt ‘round the world
The power of one is evil by far
While his wicked ways become unfurled

Homes are now scarce as spirits decline
The free world is far from the norm
The people will sit while bombs sing and whine
Like the deadliest part of the storm

An unrelenting battle goes on
As tears rise all ‘round the globe
The lilt and swagger now is far gone
While the search for the dead is the probe

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl

Join in here: https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2022/03/13/wordle-544/

Regret

When I looked over at her face, she stuck her tongue out at me. She was holding the book I had given her, the one with my inscription telling her all the ways I felt about her. I wanted to climb into a cave, drag myself away from this place, and build a barrier between us because I was so embarrassed. Apparently she didn’t sit vigil waiting for me as I waited for her. The book was only meant to be a small memento but now I regretted telling her how I really felt. Now it just felt like letters thrown into the wind. This was going to be the death of me and any chance I had with the woman of my dreams. 

Wordle 542

by bwarren

The Turtle

Amidst the rain and fog
A turtle spins his shell
Hoping for sunny warmth
His neck down to his tail
Like a vinyl record
He spins around and round
On the threshold of the mud
Fiddling with the ground
With no idea what else to do
without making too much noise
Making his own hidden design
He’s proud, happy, and poised.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl

: https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2022/02/20/wordle-541/

Word List:

Temples
Scuffling
Mouth
Stories
Step
Sky
Fluttered
Ghost
Spring
Door 
Weaving

Test of Faith

In a temple of the Gods
Below a sky of stars
The stories of the elders
Are heard from near and far
They’re weaving their tales tightly
A step above a lie
walking in the door in spring
Or scuffling on by
Your mouth is hanging open
Heart fluttered in your chest
Shadow ghosts from dark appear
Some sort of worship test.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl

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sunset finish limit string spill heartbeat trails fairy lacy tick stone gate

Come Back

Sitting here I watch the sunset, my glass reflects the glow
The wine is almost finished and I’ve got nowhere to go

My heartbeat’s running rapid as I think about our night
No limit to the love I felt, the timing felt so right

Strings of sun spill upon the sea in trails not hard to see
I wish there was a fairy that could bring you back to me

As tears well up my view begins a fine lacy effect
Time is ticking quickly until the dark of night is set

A stone throws way across the sea will bring you back to me
And at my gate you’ll find my love and know just where to be.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl

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Book Love

Books to me are golden
like honey from the bees
like sap slowly leaking
from trunks of maple trees.
The words are sweet as sugar
satiating my mind’s needs
a hunger for the language
leaving my head with a seed
No broken lines are taken
as a sign of things to come
for words are always with me
silky sounds in my ears hum
the black upon the pages
wind round and round each line
a dust around a knick knack
Each speck is solely mine.
My family knows I’m feeling
that books are here for good
a truckload of the bindings
I’ve read as many as I could.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #536

Find it here: https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2022/01/16/wordle-536/

Right outside my bedroom

A cloud goes flying by

It doesn’t even stop here

It doesn’t see my blues cry

It goes right past the raven

With wings so black like rocks

It flows with trepidation

Fisted hands on a cuckoo clock

It tries to speak a language

That anyone can hear

To tell you how to live your life

what to eat and what to wear

But like clouds must keep moving

In a circle around the globe

This story blends some fables

Some young and some are old

So slide on out your window

And reach out far and wide

The clouds just keep on coming

Like a friend right by my side.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle 535

FInd the prompt here

The Feeling Never Fades

Taking a very long breath
heaving a deep and low sigh
getting a glimpse of the shape
low as it sidles on by
I’m fraught with a moment of fear
that leads to a feeling of loss
thrust in my brain like a chisel
stuck like a rock full of moss
The gap in my memory reveals
the being that might be my love
brought back to life in my heart
fitting my heart like a glove
the thoughts fill the calm with a murmur
and shift through my nerves like a sieve
wishing he’d be back beside me
wishing he’d come back to live. 

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Despite the true, deep feelings of love I am now lucky enough to feel, losing two important men in my life, within thirteen months of the other, leaves deep scars.