Written for: Sunday Whirl, Wordle #423
Words: mass, keys, shot, rail, stamp, level, grunt, wail, phobia, flash, stroke, wind
Decisive stroke of the keys,
and she’s off like a shot
plotting her new novel,
Concerning Phobias. Some
-thing had her wound up,
and no, her cup holds nothing
but tea. She’s off booze.
Her writing had been on
the rails–no jazz, no flash.
Her wail had sailed. A mass
of crinkled papers–starts
and stops piled in her waste-
basket. Now she stamps her
feet, no grunt to confront.
She has hit a new level;
she soars.
Lucky her; for me first enthusiasm fades into doubt until readers really are impressed by ones words.
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Yes, she is a bit different.
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I love the energy and passion for writing that comes from this poem
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Thanks, Jae. I really appreciate that.
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Nice use of the prompt. If a poem were written about the way I write, it would go a little bit something like this:
She powered ahead
Though she ought to be dead
Good sense be damned
If on stage, she’d be a ham
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Love it! Thanks, Cie.
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