Some days I could sit here in my lodge
Staring at all the “needed” hodgepodge
A laziness I sometimes allow myself
Ignoring it like dust on the shelf
Other days it bothers me
It’s a jumble of trash I see
Nothing special or of worth
I hate to admit
It’s been like this since birth!
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Weekend Writing Prompt #479 – Hodgepodge
Well there goes another month! I can’t believe how fast this year is going and August here in Wyoming means it’s time to vote! Please do! There’s no luck of the draw here, folks, it’s your vote that makes changes happen. Have a fun weekend!
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The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS August 1, 2026
Dressing up was torment
Having to tuck your shirt
Weather being torrid
Unable to look pert
Dave decided to go native
Dressed up as from a cave
All went well until
His mom began to rave
Get inside this minute
Your lack of dress is not accepted
Go back to your room
Dave felt relieved
To leave the yard
And sit in his A/C bloom.
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Three Things Challenge #MM502
Date taken unknown. My eastern sky view from our carport in China Grove, Texas. Some evenings I go out there to feel less alone, even when I stand out there all by myself.
©2026 Jill Witherspoon. All Rights Reserved.
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solitary sight
stands off the main drag
useful for a bird
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Haiku Fridays with J-Dub #14
Is the Quadrille new to you? Here’s what to do:
No need to panic! The Quadrille is really quite simple when you boil it down: pen us a poem of exactly 44 words, not counting the title. Include some form of the word “Care.”
Post your piece on your own blog and link here using the Mr. Linky icon below. The Quadrille prompt is open all week, so feel free to stop by anytime you like. Also, please remember to read and comment on your fellow poet’s work.
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The word is care
Never rare
But beware
With overshare
People say how are you
No wait for reply
Try to answer
But as if they’re a dancer
Swish you around
No listening for sound
Don’t stop their beat
Keeping on, on the street.
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Q. 252 – Quadrilling without a care in the world
Turkey Talk
The rafter of turkeys climbs the tired tree trunk, every gaggle talking at once about the overcrowding problem. All gobbles trying to be louder than their neighbor, wanting their personal point of view heard. Only a tiny group of yelping heard from the highest up the tree. They knew they were the elite, not only in climbing, but the most talented to design the newest community. Purring was resonating from the older, quieter generation, taking their time at the bottom of the yielding trunk, as they were empathetic to its fate of change. The youngsters were just giving excited clucking.
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31 July 2026
The old necromancer sat in his high backed overstuffed chair, and let out a loud toot. Accompanied by a huge unexpected yawn, the hopefully temporary flatulence was released. Too many of those “happy” cookies, he admitted to himself. His wife baked the treats whenever rainy weather came. It always boosted clientele.
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Can You Tell A Story In…
1. If your shadow had its own personality, what would it complain about most often? You’re not laughing enough! 🙃
2. What’s the most dramatic thing your phone has ever done at the worst possible moment? Accidentally had the ringer turned up. It is housed in my bra. Need I say more? Went off so loud I jumped, spilled, etc…🙄
3. If household objects could file workplace grievances, which one in your home would report you first? My wheelchair which has started moaning and creaking when I’m reaching down. 😏
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Get to Know You #99!
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Fandango’s Story Starter #257
The Bag Lady 
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