Hailstones

Thanks to Poppy again for raising another challenge to get us Vocal people thinking and creating. You can read about this challenge here:

The words this month are:

Hail Mould Vanilla Compass Spiderweb

One of my favourite writers on Vocal is D. J. Reddall who writes a sonnet every day as well as other stuff about the Edmonton Oilers and his favourite pubs, all of it excellent.

You can check him out here:

I don't write many sonnets but D. J. has inspired me. It might not be strict to form but it sort of follows the tenets of what's required.

Sat on the porch, lit by black moonlight

The hard sound of hard hail rattles above,

A swig from the bottle to drown out the night;

To take out the vanilla sting of lost love.

Ice pellets cover green white, like marbles.

Supplicant grass leaves recoil from their blast;

Spiderwebs crafted, hung like hammocks, sparkle;

Hail's cannon tears them, shreds: not made to last.

I've lost my way, lost my love: I am lost.

The compass steering me is spinning, wild.

Alcohol warms me but what is its cost?

Salt descends, mucus too. Myself, I revile.

Chances of me breaking out of this mould

Diminish with liquor and hailstone cold.

Thanks for stopping by! If you do read this story, please leave a comment as I do love to interact with my readers.