WORDLE #204

For Sunday Whirl:

WORDS

I am sure they speak in tongues
stolen from distant planets
when they tell me bones of clay
possess a desire that burns
from wild beginnings of sleep
and dream of Super Powers
through to the end of the night

WORDLE #203

For Sunday Whirl:

Primate-ive

Rustling monkeys will always keep you sweet
At least in the dry eyes of our skipper
He says it's blasphemy to shed a tear
For the sake of those plague ridden animals
Whose whole reason for being born
Is to swab the deck he commands

WORDLE #202

For Sunday Whirl:

TURN-ON

Bee sting cheese string images
Cattle drive club sandwiches
Trample grapes and knead that dough
Wind me up and watch me go
Make excuses loud and proud
Plant the seed and join the crowd
Watch their minds begin to slip
That's the best part of the trip

WORDLE #201

For Sunday Whirl:

NDE

Stone circle of empty graves
Yet to bear the weight of death
Granite slabs awaiting names

Cards on the table, you were
about to howl at the moon
until fear coursed through your veins
and your ghost returned to flesh