Stuck on the American Sentence

We strip the wood from the unused old dock, the ghost will miss the creaking.

Each painter searches for a brush to reveal the palette seen within.

Keep piling bricks in your boat, hoping it will float through another day.

We kill every edifice of freedom, sing as liberty dies.

Focus on the art in the foreground, miss the vision hidden within.

The ropes coil like cobras, hypnotic spirals hanging from the rafters.

One curve of the river can change the water from murky to sparkling.

Wallow in the wanton, forgetting life will always come full circle.

Only dissect the truth if you are prepared for the roil in your soul.

 

These are for the wordle prompt at Red Wolf.
Each sentence contains the three words selected by each of the hosts.
I got nine of the eleven, could not cope with ‘soda’ and ‘otter’.

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5 Comments

Filed under Poetry

5 responses to “Stuck on the American Sentence

  1. How come your sentences give me an ouch? Esp sentences 6, 7 and 9.

  2. Could not cope with ‘otter’ and ‘soda’. Ouch. Oops. It was a toss up between ‘otter’ and ‘unsalted’. I did wonder about ‘otter’, then gave in.

  3. This is wonderful – as Irene says, each line gives an ouchl I’d love to wallow in the wanton, but the roil in my soul might be difficult to cope with.

  4. This is fantastic, Mark!

  5. Nicely done and thank you…your cobra line helped me to remember my dream about snakes from last night.

    Your roil with soul made me see soil instead of soul…strange tricks on wordsmiths! 😉

    Great to see you here!

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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