Wordle 101: Nicolaas Edvard

Nicolaas Edvard

had been disguised for so long
he had forgotten himself
and his country of origin

he walked across the sand
and as the water swirled
memories stirred in his mind

but they slipped from him
as quickly as they formed
as from a cracked pottery jar

he wound his way up and down
this beach again and again
just as he had yesterday

he was not in a hurry
he knew he could not jar
those memories loose

his wounds were too deep
and too wide
his mind half-asleep

his true self continued to elude him
so beneath a cypress tree
he sat and wept

/ / /

This poem was written using the dozen words in Wordle 101 at The Sunday Whirl and using Warmup 3 from Miz Quickly’s Impromptu Poetry Month.

Wordle 100

for this month only
change your name
to reflect your share

how can one master
love? it moves
and changes so much

master of my fate
I drop the
die on the table

share what you master
train our ears
for all the faint words

parallel, the train
runs by my
street and calls to me

memory places
are faint calls
compared to the now

she places her love
in my hands
and I want to faint

March comes to an end
and words call:
month for poetry

on this quiet street
the tumult
of people marching

it is not a stretch
to create
it is a calling

I will die someday
but bits of
me live on in words

/ / /

These lune were written in response to Wordle 100 at The Sunday Whirl.