darkest reds

shy purple hiding

summer hues

***

Haiku Fridays with J-Dub #13

Friendly Fill-Ins Week 530

W3 Prompt #221: Wea’ve Written Weekly

Posted by ben Alexander

Dear friends,

Welcome to our W³ Poetry Prompt, which goes live on Wednesdays at The Skeptic’s Kaddish. You may click here for a fuller explanation of W³.

II. Selma’s prompt: Let’s write a summer triolet

Summer is hot, sticky, noisy, melty—and perfect for a poem that keeps coming back around.

This week, let’s write a triolet: a playful eight-line poem built from repetition and rhyme.

[Read more about the form here]

The rhyme scheme is ABaAabAB.

The first line repeats as lines four and seven, and the second line returns as the final line. Only two end-rhymes are used throughout, so the poem loops back on itself like a summer thought you cannot quite shake.

Choose one of these summer moments:

• An ice cream cone melting faster than you can eat it
  My ice cream cone begins to melt
• The shock of jumping into a freezing swimming pool
  I leapt into the icy pool
• A mosquito staging a one-insect concert beside your ear
  A tiny buzz beside my ear
• The joy of biting into a cold slice of watermelon
  The sweetest slice of summer fruit

Or choose any summer theme you like: sunburn, sand in your shoes, a stubborn fan, a sudden storm, a lazy afternoon, or the glorious discovery of air-conditioning.

Stay in the shade, keep something cold nearby, and happy writing!

III. Submit: Click on ‘Mister Linky’ below

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My skin reacted in brilliant red

I spent too long in the sun

Just give me some cool iced tea

No sleep tonight in a hot bed

Just toss and turning, that will be me

Outings now include a shade

Love the beach, but as I said

Too much sun is lesson one.

***

The sweetest summer fruit so nice

A watermelon treat

Red and soft and juice galore

Don’t need to ask me twice

Even when I keep saying “more”

Red drips down from my chin

That sweetness in every slice

Runs on my blouse down to my feet.

***

This is a difficult poetry form☺️

http://skepticskaddish.com/2026/07/22/w3-prompt-221-weave-written-weekly/

lonely tree settled

desert fate is determined

I see stark beauty

—

ravaged bark still clings

the insects take advantage

as nature provides

***

SenHai Saturday #61

We’re no strangers to wind here in Wyoming. In fact our capital has an air base where planes practice flying in it! Right now our weather is acting up of course, raining a couple of times a day, hot, humid and lightning. I say of course because our small city is hosting our most income driven event, Cheyenne Frontier Days. Rodeos, ten days of concerts, western and historical wares and products galore!

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The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS July 25, 2026

The school therapist sat in the corner, sipping his spiked lemonade, wearing a shirt inscribed “I’m Your Coyotee” misspelled with a lustful coyote. Sara knew her lycra diving suit was clingy but she was in the backstroke competition also. A diving suit was a vacuum fit. She winced when her little brother popped bubble wrap he found, thinking she missed the starter pistol. School swimming competitions were supposed to be a family affair. The teacher/therapist definitely unqualified.

***

Always a ringer in the words😂👍🏻

Can You Tell A Story In…

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #096

Joe had always wanted a singing career. He finally asked his friend at a recording studio to help him write a melody fitting a poem Joe wrote after he lost his wife. He didn’t want a typical country song, predictable and trite. His poem was beautiful, with all the love and loss he felt poured into the words. His friend worked with him and they were going to have studio time for this last day only. The song was written and a local businessman backed the recording and it became a success. Joe hoped his wife would somehow hear it.

***

24 July 2026

Since I’m turning eighty in a couple of months, obituary seems appropriate. I’m not having a funeral, but the people in those darkened smelly institutional halls will probably put something in the local paper. I can imagine someone I crossed paths with uttering “finally!” with a smile. I’ve had three close calls and am still here being my ornery self so my family thinks I’m immortal. When we gathered for Christmas last year we were playing a game with the oldest starting. The kids said “grandma” and of course the old joke passed around again. I’m going to be cremated, a tiny box of ashes buried beside my husband, also cremated. I don’t believe in heaven and hell so as far as I know it’s a final goodbye on the old deathbed. Probably in my last coherent moments I’ll start to fear the unknown, but I hope not. The only thing I would like in my obituary is “she had a fine sense of humor”.

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This Week’s Writer’s Workshop Prompts – July 23, 2026

getting chills

it’s happening now

visuals

scary scenes

my brain reasons it’s a dream

then I stop shaking

***

In celebration of Spain’s win, a Spanish poetry form I love, the Shadorma – syllables 3,5,3,3,7,5, unrhymed.

#TankaTuesday Poetry Challenge No. 74, Oh, to Dream! 7/21/26