Monday, December 07, 2015

Bright and Sunny Day ~~ a Whiligig Poem


Two Bites


One bright and sunny day

Soon to become darkened

Our clumsy wasp was caught

Red molecules of blood

Sticky whirl, his demise  

He did begrudge that day

Spider's web alluring

Poppy seeds sugar dripped 

His shouts of no avail

Until heard by the crow

False alarm, two small bites

Food chain, gizzard pulling 

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Photo and Poem Copyright © 2015 Jimmiehov. All Rights Reserved
- This poem is linked to Sunday's Whirligig: A Dozen Words for Writers (# 36) 
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I'm also linked with Marian at The Tuesday Platform

This week's Whirligig Word List (all twelve):

sunny, clumsy, wasp, molecules, whirl, begrudge, spider, poppy, shouts, crow, alarm, pulling, and I used all twelve, on in each line.

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At Tuesday, December 08, 2015 5:55:00 AM, Blogger Magical Mystical Teacher said...

So it goes: The eater becomes the eaten!

At Tuesday, December 08, 2015 6:57:00 AM, Blogger Gillena Cox said...

clumsy clumsy wasp, caught in a vicious circle; serious issue, yet witty

much love...

At Tuesday, December 08, 2015 8:15:00 AM, Blogger Gail said...

Wonderful tale. Such is the cycle of life.

Great write and thanks for visiting.

At Tuesday, December 08, 2015 8:50:00 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

And begrudge he should. Thanks for the visit,


At Tuesday, December 08, 2015 1:42:00 PM, Blogger brudberg said...

The food chain always surprise the carnivores... and I guess it doesn't end here.

At Tuesday, December 08, 2015 3:27:00 PM, Blogger Buddah Moskowitz said...

And that's the circle of life. Liked the point of view here. Good read.

At Thursday, December 10, 2015 5:46:00 AM, Blogger Marian said...

Hah, well wasps are assholes anyway. :)

At Thursday, December 10, 2015 2:28:00 PM, Blogger Helen said...

Ish! Just kidding. Huge grin here.

At Friday, December 11, 2015 1:46:00 PM, Blogger Maggie Patti Barbara Frankford-Walton said...

promising words.

At Friday, December 18, 2015 7:37:00 AM, Blogger Benjamin Kingery Loomis Roy Moore said...

it is like looking at a knitted scarf,
your poem is beautiful and creative.


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