Oh, that I was a poet, Greek
That I would not feel such a freak
When on a beach I stretch all day
And those grapes I hurl away
So ripe, so sweet, they arouse me
Rather suck upon the yew tree
Hemlock, why not, welcome, take me
Let me bask, careless, carefree
In fields Elysian
56 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Elysian
sweet photo
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Thank you. It seemed to fit.
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Love this.
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Thank you. I’m a classical scholar, you can tell 🙂
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Sounds like such a peaceful slumber… Almost inviting.
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It’s what the word Elysian conjures for me
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I think it would make a wonderful name for a cat..
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Elysian? Yea, has a rather grand yet friendly feel to it. I imagine it a little bit fussy of what it’ll eat… and yet it gets into all kinds of embarrassing mischief. 🙂
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Lovely Crispina! ❤
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Thank youi, Deborah 🙂
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This is brilliant! I love, love, love it!
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Thank you. So, it was worth me putting my thinking hat on? 🙂
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When is it not? Your poems, especially with their clever humorous style, have made a fan out of me. 🙂
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I thank you. Mostly they’re my *washing up poems* cos that’s what I’m doing as I’m composing. But sometimes I do sit down and consider. Sometimes.
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Hey, I never question how the minds of the greats work! 😄 But I love whatever you come up with. 🙂
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I thank you. You’ve made my evening. We all like to be appreciated for our output, but it a cake, a song, a dance… or a poem.
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Most welcome, always! But honestly, if it comes to choosing between cake and a poem, I’ll be having cake please. 😋 (I kid!)
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Aye well, my cakes don’t come out as good as my poems 🙂
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😋
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Washing up poem, eh? Well, darn. I should try to get my mind working when I wash up. Actually, no, I do commpose when I walk.
All this to say, lovely poem, Crispina.
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I thank you, Dale. Best I don’t change which washing up liquid I use. It must be *Original*, none of your fancy flowery perfumes
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Haha! Funny lady.
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🙂
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