Wordle song

Trope quote hotel
Round pound route
Works jerks murky
Fiver pleas lette..
Uhohh, fiver pleas

It'ssa gaame ooovf trans
Forma tions (longA) aannd
Realy there isn'ta reasn toooo
Cheat. Fiver pleas. Start. Finis

Frond found. Tidal 
Trial. Wring wrung
Fiver river. Brews
Trees. Clues blues
Pound mound. Pleas
Lease. Downy found

Grieving

There are so many words but
I have only used loss; I've only
Said "I'm mourning" or "I mourn"
I have said "I miss you" and I've
Mentioned that as I missed you,
You were also missing. I knew
You were lost and losing little
Bits of yourself over time which
I noticed you had lost. A whole
Concept, a man-made construct
Time was lost to you. This not
Being able to tell time caused
A consternation. You did ask
After the time a lot. "What time
Is it?" A question that came at
Minutes apart. You wanted to
Know, to understand but you no
Longer had the sense of it. Time
Was already really irrelevant and
Lost. I knew I was grieving you
[There I have said it.] I still had
Little bits of you but I mourned,
Bereft of the partner who would
Know how to fix it. Whatever it
Might be. The companion who
Did things, set the clocks back
Or forward, the lover who would
Recognize my feelings, the friend
Who would console when I was
Sad. I grieved alone. Sad alone. I rejoiced alone. You were here and we did laugh and chat together. Your chitchat could be so very Endearing. Now you are truly lost
To me but not lost in confusion   Lost. Gone. I can begin mourning
Properly, my grief made real by
Your timely departure. You were
Able to pick your moment, time
Your passing perfectly. I have a
New concept of time now too, a
Time when a vibrant loving man
Left me with memories, a time
When that man, my man began
His long fail into confusion, and
That time when I journeyed with
Him in sickness 'til death did us
Part and I was left bereft but with
Memories of his strength, of him.
Memories of his generosity and
His love and his care. I grieve his
Loss. I mourn your passing but
I rejoice in all our time together.
It was our time. We used it well.
Bereavement, grief, has its time
Now. Memories of all our time
Fill my time now as I grieve you
And miss us. As I mourn our time

In March, after you’re gone

I mourn you now as the
Rites of your passing let
Me, permit me to mourn
You, completely, a little
At a time. Mourning, it's
A process, I say, a little at
A time but in all this time
I have mourned you, not
Completely but a little at
A time as I lost you, not
Completely, but a little at
A time. All this time when
You were still here yet not
Completely you, I mourned
You, losing you as I did, a
Little at a time. I mourned
Through laughter and tears
That never completely fall
As you slipped away, lost
To me, lost to yourself, you
Are gone now, passed from
This realm, no longer lost,
As you were when first I
Mourned you, yet lost to
Me. I will mourn you. Now

Two points

Let me be agnostic, a
Fence sitter, hanging
Between two points of
Light- science, tangible
Things, and spiritual, a
Realm of emotion and
Conjecture. Ok when it
Is at its best, science is
Conjecture, too. What if
Science asks. Those in
The spiritual camp, the
Religious, mostly only
Trade in answers, in the
Certainty of the hereafter.
Surety is still conjecture.
You never know what it
Is that awaits you. I am
On the fence, agnostic
Questioning not echoing
Answers. In spirit, I am
All believing and also so
Doubtful of what I know
Or don't know. Let me be
Agnostic, on the fence

Star dust

The scientist is speaking of
Grief, and larger things, like
Life, too. We all have this one
Thing in common. There is a
Single theme linking all of us.
The chemicals that form you
Also course through me. DNA
RNA it all comes from the wide
Universe. So, as solid as we are,
We are all star dust. We are the
Embodiment of the debris that
Stars leave all over the galaxies.
Isn't that a thing to ponder? You
And I, as disparate as we are: we
Are star dust. Galactic detritus,
Beautiful and formed to think
And wonder; to ponder in awe

There are three star dust poems, all inspired by a conversation between Leah Smart and NASA’s Michelle Thaller. The science that I (mis)quote is real. You/We are all star dust!

Perchance

My thoughts transform objects into
Mythological shapes. The pillow a
Shield. I am grasping at straws. In
My defense, my medieval dreams
Protect me. I stave off the attacks
Of spears or dragons. I will awake
To reality and there, the nightmare

Lucky

Life should be a gift everyday
Not just Thursdays or the day
The sun is shining but even if
It's overcast or cloudy. It's life
Man. Enjoy it for all the joy of
Every color of the sky, of each
Blade of grass and the tulips
When they pop out of loam 
At the foot of a tree, yellow
Or red. I love the ones that I
Think are purple but it's the
Black ones that are rare. If
It's July and there aren't any
Tulips to enjoy, the buzzing
Bees are making honey or
We can pick blueberries or
Eat bananas and cream or
Bagels or sniff the lilacs if
Roses aren't in our yards.
We can shamble with the
Best of 'em until our dream
Merits the.expectation to
Call.us the best, brightest
Upcoming or was there and
Moving on, variety is peak
Fortitude, the maximum of
Everything we sample and
Try. Life is.up for grabs so
Let's grab the day and be
Present for all of it. Dark
Or gloomy or as cheerful
As uncle Harry at a party
Surrounded by favorites
Seeing my mum or your
Dad. Make everyday full
Of joy or adventure. It's
As if you care and want
More. Appreciate each
Day while life shares its
Gifts with you, sunshine
Or clouded, silent or loud.

In love

I say I love you, 
And yes it's true.
I love you. Now
More than ever
I did. More in
Every way. I am
Deeply in love.
I am there for
You to protect
You; to minister.
You were my
Precious one
Always. I fell
Hard. I fell for
You as never
For anyone. I
Had crushes.
Of course. A
Boy turned my
Head or held
My interest. It
Was never this
Intense. I am
Completely as
Besotted today
As I was when
Our love was
Young and new.
I say I love you
And yes it's true.

Winter’s wolf

The sassy moon fulsome and
Full, plump, hanging low in the
Center of my sky, even as the
Morning light begins to clear
Away the night that was never
Truly dark under the shine of
That fat moon or the electricity
From high-rises in its vicinity
Skies at night have no right to
Be so bright, and if they must
Be so, the moon should be the
Only beacon, the only light that
Paves the way, the sassy moon,
The savvy moon, January's light