a satiric
spunky sperm
twisty tippytoe
through the
outdoor civilization
renewing fairway
to engorge
prospect goat
recasting stubble
noninfectious vibrational
hubbub pyrophobia
luridness hallelujah
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 3–9, 2026)
always
bareheaded
but
can
dainty
element
from
grievous hubbub
in
lithesome
momentously
noninfectious
polytheistic
regimentals
sway
these
outdoor
twisty
unsensational
vibrational
with you
footless from fanatical factual feminization
I invite immoderation into increasing inflationary integer
my meditation melange momentously moresque
tippytoe through those twisty tulipa
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 3–9, 2026)
soft feather
bog winds whisper on heather
where the soaring eagles fly
high
stones upright
stand frozen long to incite
from high cliffs leaning on sea
free
lakes misty
blue morning shrouds reeds twisty
slow swans turn into cloud tuft
fluffed
breeze saline
blows on Moher cliffs marine
grey waves pound on basalt stone
lone
bay twilight
white gulls traverse with delight
dark night folded by wan tide
dyed
Just like kids, kitty’s and bunnies, can be spoiled by
a constant onslaught of attention. Ooh, kiss kiss,
rub rub, hand feed and lots of toys. Oh boy!
But leave those buster browns alone for too long,
with pom-pom or twisty tails between legs,
where their only encounter with two legs
are the strangers, that feel like intruders and thieves.
No wonder they hide. Whiskers frown, almost
teardrops hit the ground, and fear feeds the sweet beasts.
You return to mayhem, anger, cold shoulders. Your pets,
now need, a shrink, a ghostbuster, the police! You thought
they would survive while you lived it up at the beach.
Furparents, you should have trusted friends and family
with them from time to time. Now the furbabies are
sheepish, gun-shy. Each creek of the door, like fingernails.
Now, you may never leave because you feel ashamed,
lame, not the same. Oh yes, those cottontail eyes
will tell you lies, and the suspicious cat will squint.
Love is
: like a fragrant moonlight which graces
the immortal hued Spring.
:like a graceful daybreak which walks
along a tough, twisty road.
:
wiry wily
snakily snake
like a load of spaghetti
all coily not straight
roundy and writhy
curly with flow
like stringy all knotty
and cotton to sew
a scribble of dribble
all longy in length
and bendy and turny
beginning to end
spirally spiralled
wriggly and roll
wiggled and wavy
like a zigzaggy pole
snakey and snakile
like an old twisty loop
sinewed and mazy
or ouroboros hoop
so anyway a snake
a snake anyway
did I mention a snake
I think I did say
He began a voyage to a land afar,
But on every step in his journey, he shrunk.
He wanted to go to a far distant star,
But soon diminished to the size of a skunk.
He climbed up on a slippery curtain rod,
Now just the width and breadth of a dappled mouse.
He slid off the rod into the hair of a dog
Who skipped and danced all the way out of the house.
He got smaller yet and befriended a flea
Who said, “sail the green sea to a secret land
Where creatures are much smaller than you can see,
And a million can live on a grain of sand.”
So, he then disappeared, getting smaller still,
And trekked through a forest of golden and brown,
And followed a twisty, turny trail until
He came to a window on the gate to a town.
The hinged portal opened, and a head popped out.
‘Twas an atom sized, gay and puppetty dog
Who hailed him, as a fish on a water spout
Said, “please sit down by this cranberry bog.”
A boy, from his sack, gave him a magic bean,
Which he put inside a stained-glass rainbow jar,
And got so small he was only again seen
As a gold ray of light from a distant star.
England’s Dame Agatha Christie
wrote novels with plots often twisty.
Best-selling fiction writer of all time,
her Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot solved many a crime.
A dragon purchased Kamasutra for fun,
Tried the poses one by one in the sun.
But in a twisty embrace,
He fell flat on his face,
Now he's learning love's not easily done!
The lines are well rehearsed
The blocking to perfection
No curtain yet to elevate
Audience anticipation
A gentle mist wafts across
The scene is set and ready
Our actors find a mark
Low voices slow and steady
We witness fighting
Friendship, love, a tangle of emotion
The heart it lifts or falls in time
Betrayal and devotion
Death and life parade before
A story twisty-turny
The hero has to test his heart
Through convoluted journey
All characters are woven
The plot line slowly thickens
A tribute to the tellers
Whether Shakespeare, Brecht or Dickens
An interval, a time to breathe
Reset the scene and go
Refresh, review, reconnect
Then on we must; This Show
Jinjagoliath
23rd September
PRETTY WITTY
Cocktail thirsty : Mocktail, Green tea.
Few Males naughty : Females pretty.
Toe nails: Twenty ; Vessel empty.
Slow snail, safety ; Cat- tail, fatty.
Road- rail dusty ; Snow, hail frosty.
Gravel: Grotty ; Pastel: Arty.
Lintel faulty ; Snacks sale: Salty.
In jail: Guilty ; Egg shell : Poultry.
Chisel : Acuity ; Repel: Pity.
Rebel: Haughty ; Nobel: Petty
Angel - Deity ; Blue bell: Beauty.
Slipped fell Humpty ; Ankle twisty.
Novel Party ; Revel: Sporty
Bread-gel : Tasty ; Ship sails: Hasty
Stay well: Hearty ; Gone Hell: Dirty.
E-MAIL: IT ; Marvels Mighty.
He was a troublesome kid,
Who punched the others and hid
If this wasn't safe, off slid
To be of reprisals rid...
Venturesome troublesome kid,
Who pot distances from lid
And could 12:00 pm from Mid;
A Life of the Twisty Grid
A street wise worldly - wise kid,
Who torched things and asked "who did?"
Nigeria's Grid of A kid?.
Packaged and sent to Robert Gorelick’s
Made him a Doggy Book Of Limericks
That had me roaring-unique
Some were cute and very chic
A twisty phrase he pulls-off, are his tricks
A postcard; his picture, a return address
Newly printed and hot off the press
It brought us closer, poet pals
Good deeds, I thanked God at St. Mel’s
He said it was nice, he was very impressed
His looks shout out Mister California
Ladies and gentlemen let me warnya
Dusty rugged devil so fine
He has aged like a fine French wine
Copy, print, and bind, a great idea
Robert takes his book wherever he goes
Bragging and boasting to all friends and foes
I’m submitting his chap book
I'll find an agent to hook
Dreams come true, fairy tales and rainbows
For the majority of the vast
I have been saving the best for last
His genius; sparkling and clever
He’s back, as witty as ever
Takes requests and voilà writes it fast
Maybe doggy limericks are his shtick
Short stories sensitive and romantic
But wait, a beautiful quatrain
Will please you every now and then
So let’s hear it for Robert Gorelick!
A serpent lies writhing on our divan,
we see now how denial might begin.
Hissing at all who would foil his vile plan,
our fatal flaw is not delving right in.
Climate Change is much more a twisty tact:
coiled thoughts like stone turrets in ivy.
If nations can't accept a real fact -
it's hard to turn this round, from what I see.
Setting science so very far aside,
deft doubters like letting sleeping snakes lie.
Skeptics scurry for a safe space to hide,
afraid to give the truth one honest try.
This then, becomes a crippling contrivance:
ever still stronger, steadfast defiance.
4/24/22 103 Words
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