Joe moved to quiet Pennsylvania Wanted to cure his clinomania The doc said it would work But was a jerk so Joe suffered the mania. Finding no cure Read a Jamaican lure For insomniacs’ hearts Hoped it was smart. Joe arrived at the spot Saw a big cauldron pot Decided this “cure” Was not what he sought.
A medicinal practice does not allow you to blow someone away, sir. You can’t shoot them for stories you hear that activate your personal triggers! Your testimony is totally served with a lack of control for the truth! You have no gratitude for the treasure of a sane mind. You are not allowed bail.
This week, have fun with these unusual autumn words by selecting one (or more) words from the website above. Write your syllabic poem. PLEASE include the meaning of the word, so everyone knows what the word means.
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Clinquant: Glittering with gold and silver. Sibylline: Mysterious, cryptic; having a secret meaning
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Kicking up sand, I watch it silently fall
The evening sea is clinquant in its movements
At once deep gold in moon’s reflection
Then eclipsed by silvery white foam
While those sibylline waves quietly approach sandy edges
I wonder what secrets they hold from worldly travels.
Joe and Emmy stared up at the crooked tree. It was fascinating to them. They were teased by the older children, saying they could climb it easily. “Looks like the letter “P’” Emmy remarked. “Yeah, it kinda does! And I think I could use those broken limbs to climb to the top! Give me a boost, Emmy, and I’ll try it.” Emmy cupped her hands next to the tree trunk for Joe, who grabbed onto the first sharp broken branch. He then sat down on the large arm of the tree limb. Looking down, Joe decided he was high enough.
Sue smiled at the supposedly unique cookware. If she wasn’t such a polite woman she might throw the pan she tried to clean. She started to shake the grim pot to remove the rough surface’s stuck-on food. Thinking how much money she had invested in the cookware, she felt sad, remembering how she chose to shop for the style instead of wearability.
Strips of filmy fabric draped over her body this night, Suzanne recalled a forgotten moment when she first felt his touch. His fingertips were like a velvet balm to her tired being. His approach never a roar, but a slow jazz composition and her passion was revealed.
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