dVerse Poets Quadrille

Helloooo, fabulous springtime wordsmiths! De Jackson (aka WhimsyGizmo) here, and it’s time for the Quadrille! This pithy little poem is a work of our own invention here at dVerse: simply a poem of 44 words, not counting the title, and including one word we provide for you. Those are the only rules. Rhyme or don’t rhyme, write in quatrains or freeform, stack those words all up in a tight little bundle or spread them across the page in nice long lines. Those choices are yours. So long as your poem is exactly 44 words and our assigned word is there, we’re happy campers. Today, I’d like us to play with the word ZOOM.


Hates housework, every chore
Now with kids, always more
Dusting, vacuum, mop, repeat
And don’t forget the toilet seat..
Every zoom(ing) finger smudge
That never let a napkin budge
From a perfect table, reaching
Spilling drinks while dad is preaching
“God, give me serenity”.



14 thoughts on “dVerse Poets Quadrille

  1. I got a sense of busyness and pressure from your poem, Cheryl, and imagined someone with steam coming out of their ears! These days I refuse to zoom, and do everything in my own time.

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