Twiglet #67

A twiglet is a short phrase. Or a word. Its aim is to “prompt” a flow. A thought. A memory. If something comes to mind, write. A polished piece isn’t the goal; creativity is. Leave a link, if you’d like your work read, but comments should not be expected. Twiglets are posted on Tuesdays.


44 thoughts on “Twiglet #67”


    Across the yellow-orange petaled backs
    of hillside marigolds,
    slashes of brutal rain.

    Not even Noah had a clue
    about the coming deluge
    until the punishing raging rains
    came slashing against the gopher wood.

    The scourging of Jesus at the pillar
    echoes still in the slash of tears
    streaming from the eyes of believers.

    That goodbye kiss that slashed across
    your twisted mouth sliced me like a knife.

    If flower seeds asleep beneath the soil
    could wake and speak, they would pray
    for slashing rain to quench their floral thirst.


    Liked by 3 people

  2. Still winter here, woke to 28 F. Any one care to send some warmer air this way.
    This weeks prompt made me think of the odd Process of hail… a different type of slashing rain.

    Though I also remember being caught in a slashing rain on a vacation…by the shore/ beach.
    Maybe I’ll write another verse for that. Maybe though I already have…
    Errands to run this morning… I’ll be back to read. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Cut the crap
    About the rain –
    all that misty-eyed
    plashing and dripping
    and endless storming on and on
    of watered-down
    metaphors that clog
    the drain.

    Liked by 1 person

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