My response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Wordle #100
Her grave is a xenolith of lustrous
Marble, disguised by a grassy knoll.
The funeral is tempestuous,
The vicar a fraudulent troll
Spouting his panegyric.
He didn’t know her,
Never saw the widow’s laces
Stained with spiteful traces
Of laudanum and breakfast yolk
That trickled down her chin.
No – to the village she was just a joke,
A stargazer no-one let in,
With her widow’s black,
Stinking of fags and gin,
A faint aroma, still lingering,
A reminder of her solitude
And lonely widows sorrow.
© Kim M. Russell, 2016
writing in north norfolk 
Fabulous use of the words Kim. Beautifully done and I love how you got the words to flow so well.
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Thank you 😉
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so creative – enjoyed this very much
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Thank you, Laura 😊
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The rhythm of this is amazing!
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