Wordle at the end of the year

Words compliments of The Sunday Whirl

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Jester’s New Year’s Toast
a Terza-Nelle

Coming soon, friends and neighbors: a new year.
Hey-a! Amen to the old. So be it. Adios.
Put your bells on, chums. Enter tomorrow with cheer.
Damned, or holy, let yesterday give up its ghost.
Toast it. And laughing. Trash those silent sighs,
say amen to the past. So be it, adios.

And if the new arrival is that nasty surprise
–the pale, toothy monster born just to ingest us–
well, toast it too, and laughing. No martyrly sighs:
we will jingle and chime as it tries to digest us.
We’ll go down, not alone, but a riot. Kicking
the pale monster born to ingest us.

Or, if tomorrow comes like a plain brown stray, licking
wagging, dragging us down, out, into the rainy night
we’ll go down. But not alone, a laughing riot, kicking
our heels, clicking, whistling, singing like the mighty.
Coming soon, friends and neighbors, a New Year
bouncing, dragging us down, out, into the night.

Put your bells on, chums. Hey-a! Enter tomorrow with cheer.

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Response: Red Wolf Poems

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In the Age of Our Machines

To maintain a sound body and an agile brain
today’s woman swims against a current of ease.
To do what early woman did by chance: we will train.

Our primitive forebear’s tight butt and abdomen,
got a good workout when she ran back to the trees
to maintain a sound body and an agile brain.

We must however squat, thrust, hold, exale, and strain
in scheduled slots, outside the day’s activities,
To do what earlier was done by chance. We will train.

The primitive gal didn’t much need the regimen–
as bending, running and climbing were necessities.
To maintain a sound body and that agile brain,

she subtracted time from distance, used tradition
as a guide, survived. We can’t chew gum and shoot the breeze.
To do what early woman did by chance. We will train.

What circumstance forced on her, we pay for, complain
and bring ourselves in line to do again. Because
to maintain a sound body an an agile brain,
to do what once women did by chance, we have to train.

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An Oracle for Red Wolf Poems