conceptual cadency can calmly context
my monarchist mineralogist motivated memento
norway neurologist needlessly noteworthy
preemptive price packaged port
retread reversion relaxin radical rider
savour serviceable servitude
substantive silken spinnaker spookily stimulated symmetry
touchingly tense text through their thanksgiving
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • July 27–August 2, 2026)
Spookily Bookily
Dramatic apogee
Edgar A. Poe's verses
Death from curses
Quite artistically
characteristically
His poems were renowned
to be profound
Gloomily Doomily
So methodically
he wrote of never more
and sweet Lenore
Poe was positively
Imaginatively
authoring horrid themes
to dire extremes
Foolishly Ghoulishly
Did Poe write lucidly
Now dearly departed
Tell Tale Hearted
Poems were tactical
Anticlimactical
He wrote of misery
and mystery
January 9th, 2021
Double Dactyl Contest
Sponsor: William Kekaula
I've walked the floors six times before,
and may yet walk them a few times more.
The pencil marks on the door frame here,
show the growth of my kids year on year.
Ghostly echoes reverberate now,
not spookily but, reassuring somehow.
Children's laughter, the wife's gentle chiding,
kids, cats and dogs running and hiding.
The kitchen range, the heart of the home,
our polar magnet, wherever we roam.
Empty now, so silent, bare and staid,
Our bedroom, where dreams and plans were made.
If walls could talk, what a tale they would tell,
of an average family who grew and lived well.
But now we've outgrown our first little nest,
and moving will put us all to the test.
New memories, new neighbours, new friends to be made,
new roots and foundations and plans to be laid.
But we'll always have memories, fond and sincere,
of our first little home, which we'll always hold dear.
Streets awash with mewling cats
and surly swashbuckling pirates.
Somber skies with swirling bats,
and ghastly goblins chasing rats.
Wicked witches’ evil glare,
grisly ghouls' ghostly stare,
taunting with a double-dare.
All in fun to give a scare.
Haunted houses with darkened walls;
afraid to walk spell-bound halls.
Toffee apples, popcorn balls;
eating brains and toad eyeballs.
Trick-or-treating door-to-door.
Treats too tasty to ignore.
Harmless tricks more smile than roar,
kept us giggling for much more.
Parents, neighbors joined the fun.
Scary ghost stories spookily spun.
Fortune tellers’ crystal balls to shun.
Homemade costumes unique to one.
Creamy fudge and devil’s food cake,
all wrapped up for us to take.
Mom's scratch treats, nothing fake.
She took all day long to bake.
Bewitching hour over, fun now done,
to our homes we’d quickly run.
Goodie bags that weighed a ton.
We would share with everyone.
Playing games and laughing out loud,
good times again next year we vowed!
I fought one piggish Titan and I won
As if that devious Leech existed not;
Sealing the very firy nose of his gun
With ball-like rags to sap every shot.
A long-lionized mogul of giant name
Slew my low fists by a magic stroke;
Vilest Judas glossing in pesty fame,
I his two-timing fang spookily broke.
I know not if such a scheming villain
Fickle arms dim for want of glut gain,
Ever shall by Time's rare marvel floor,
And ink selfsame serendipities more.
May the Highest Star your ochre clip,
And pelt plagues and fates your ship;
Until Hades her filthiest minion finds
Sulfurous frying betwixt fallen minds.
May your fiendish bow of foxy veneer
Snap mid-hunt as looms hugest deer,
And life's fave tooth turn fatal sore;
Your daintiest morsel tartest grow!
New age hurdy gurdy on the fiddle,
lotus pose squatter spookily enthrals,
Sultan nail tip sky diver of the fretboard
Night's dull dark imbued with horrid angst
Its coldness biting the clenched skin
Seas and oceans as silent as a feather floating in the wind
Trees sway grotesquely; impenetrable ghosts
Wind whistling spookily across the obfuscated world
Earth munching against the feet with muffled softness
Voices muzzled into sour silence
Men caged into drawn bounds
Livid lions jangle outside nations
But with time, with sure time
Darling dawn draws sanguinely to us
The eastern edges smile with yellow streaks
Dull dark's thawed like snow in summerday
The horrible night surrenders all that it grabbed
A ray of sunshine painted all over the faces
Oh! Shan't lament more in the anguishing dark-
For 'morrow t'shall rise!
Two Days Later
Silent Sunday beckons
No traffic noises railing.
Only silence speaking
Of the need for human exhaling.
Stoves are spookily still,
Leftovers quietly cold for lunch,
Far away from this neighborhood
Is the frantic shopping bunch.
Straw hat on my head,
Book in my mumuu lap,
Silent Sunday closes my eyes,
And I nap, I nap.
On the subject of an unwanted water feature...
Water, water, everywhere
In rushing rivers down the wall
As loud as grand Niagara’s Fall
In to the Wobbly Bog
Pouring, pouring, endlessly
Insistent flow of running stream
Unwanted runnels carved through dream
Swelling the Wobbly Bog
Soaking, soaking, soggily
The puddle deep, the muddy ground
‘Tis said there was a postman found
Drowned in the Wobbly Bog
Dropping, dropping, gravity
Bleaching brick with scale of lime
On damp of wall the mark of time
Shadows the Wobbly Bog
Gushing, gushing, noisily
Unbalancing the Feng and Shui
No wind to dry the churning sea
Flooding the Wobbly Bog
Madness, madness, sanity
By white noise of incessant drip
Is sunken like a sodden ship
Wrecked in the Wobbly Bog
Misty, misty, spookily
By moonlight come the boggy sprites
With mischief and their tiny lights
Haunting the Wobbly Bog
Wishing, wishing, hopelessly
That some good knight with tool or sword
From Aster or the Water Board
Might conquer the Wobbly Bog
Watching, watching, grumpily
The paint that never dries; dismay
As Wiltshire waters pour away
In to the Wobbly Bog
by Gail
Castle grounds at midnight
Spookily lit by moonlight
Black clouds were lowering
Ghost Hunters together hoping
Their collective thoughts emoting
Came greenish haze glowing
Tinged by ectoplasm denoting
An apparition visible floating
Long grey dress soaking
A grimaced face moaning
Panic stricken all noting
Few skeptics now disbelieving
Heard high pitch screeching
Saw bats come weaving
Temperature dropped to freezing
As someone tried communicating
Each attempt was disappointing
Until fading to dematerialising
They tried an exorcising
Fires of hell stoking
Their meddling chants invoking
All the ghouls residing
Gleefully saw them fleeing
As rain came teeming
Hunt no longer appealing.
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