For me, the words in The Sunday Whirl’s, http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/, wordle 15 came alive. While reading them, I had a remarkably detailed visual image. Oh, how I wish I had the delicate writing talents of Harry Nicholson or Earlybird so I could place that image in a post as detailed as what I saw. Even then, it would be hundreds of lines long.
The wordle prompt was: image, splinters, fear, rattles, holy, fortress, voices, jangle, sprout, pierce, weed, vision. What do you see?
Again I wake from troubled sleep,
A vision burned into my mind.
An image of the distant past—
each night, again, my sleep it finds.
A holy fortress under siege,
I see within my frequent dream.
The voices of a host upraised,
I hear as but a single scream.
A thousand splinters fill the air
as arrows slowly arc to ground.
They pierce between the armor chinks
and sprout, like weeds of death abound.
Siege engines heave the massive rocks,
which cave the front gate down complete.
A vengeful horde goes rushing in
to storm the castle’s lofty keep.
The jangle of cold steel grows near.
Death rattles echo through the hall.
In fear I raise a trembling hand . . .
and from the fearful dream I fall.
What link have I with such a past?
Why does it ever haunt my sleep?
Did I exist so long ago
and meet my death in castle’s keep?