Rainy Sundays make for great whirl writing

September 29, 2013

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I try to make a habit of the Sunday whirl and believe me when I say I always have the intention to write and, most Saturdays, even begin the poem at some point. Then get half way and run out of time and, before I know it, it’s Thursday! And then I read thru my fellow whordlers and they all have brilliant whirls up on their blogs.

Must try harder!

Started this whirl yesterday and, while I know it’s not quite October yet, we have been fighting off the sniffles with mega-doses of vitamin C and quite a few of our friends are down with something nasty. It’s the season, isn’t it?

So here is my Sunday whirl for this week and hooray for restful, lazy, rainy Sundays. πŸ™‚

ghosts, exact, patches, gathered, worship, spill
unbidden, hillside, where, swarm, edges, sharp

You may worship the romance of early evening walks wrapped up in softest wool sweaters, glancing in windows lit by the golden light of open fires, crunchy leaves gathered in backyard piles, and crisp autumn air, but let me tell you the hardest truths from the softest wools, oh foolish friend.

October has returned. An unwelcomed guest. It’s always wise to count the silver after October visits.

This light-fingered month has a sunny smile that lifts your spirits and makes you think you’re just lightly chilled when you take to your bike one last time and happily coast down the hillside, sends a sizzling slap to your cheeks, and ends with nights that leave you wondering why you bothered to try to sleep in the first place.

The inside of your head swims like the patchy ribbons of an oil spill, where you shiver into your pillow with the low grade fever and scratchy throat that lasts for eternal short, sharp, grey days, punctuating restless ghost-filled, nightmare-plagued darkness as you pile on the blankets.

And if ghosts are made of particles and if they blow like shadows thru the centuries, then so does this dreadful month, that assumes a personality and exacts its toll just to disappear again till next season, when it swarms back into your home, unbidden.

To push you to the edges, like a gaggle of bored housewives complaining about bad manicures in French accents.


(Art: Mixed media collage with acrylic, paper cut-outs, and various pieces from an old computer.)

31 days of common magic
Rillettes de Tours on this cold, rainy day

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  • Reply brenda warren September 29, 2013 at 12:11 pm

    I love “the patchy rhythms of an oil spil…” It’s an apt description. Well done, and get well. Your collage rocks!

    • Reply Veronica September 29, 2013 at 4:52 pm

      Thank you Brenda, and thanks for keeping up the Sunday whirl. πŸ™‚ We’re all fine today. πŸ™‚

  • Reply oldegg September 29, 2013 at 2:14 pm

    I loved this as you teased us with the metaphors that so clearly illustrated your word picture. Don’t be hard on October she merely is warning “be prepared winter is coming”.

    • Reply Veronica September 29, 2013 at 4:55 pm

      Lol Old, don’t worry, I never hold a grudge. πŸ™‚

  • Reply Pamela September 29, 2013 at 2:21 pm

    Veronica, some very vivid images here. Well wordled.


    • Reply Veronica September 29, 2013 at 4:55 pm

      Thank you so much Pamela. πŸ™‚

  • Reply Katherine bartlett September 29, 2013 at 3:05 pm

    Love it! I should try this sometime!

    • Reply Veronica September 29, 2013 at 4:56 pm

      Hello Katherine, my new friend. It would be fantastic if you would try. And thank you for leaving me your addy because now I can come visit you. πŸ™‚

  • Reply 1sojournal September 29, 2013 at 3:36 pm

    I like October even though it is light fingered and not always reliable. Hope you feel better soon,


    • Reply Veronica September 29, 2013 at 4:57 pm

      Hi Elizabeth, all fine now. πŸ™‚ Thank you so much.

  • Reply Sarah September 29, 2013 at 4:02 pm

    October is actually my favourite month of the year, so I’m not sure I can agree with your descriptions of it…but I think it’s an interesting depiction of “cold season” descending.

    • Reply Veronica September 29, 2013 at 4:58 pm

      Hello Sarah, don’t worry, it’s just an exercise in creativity. I actually love autumn, just not this torrential Westcoast rain. πŸ™‚

  • Reply Sabra Bowers September 29, 2013 at 4:49 pm

    Be well, Veronica. You know, I think October is my favorite month, but I live in a southern state in the USA and we have beautiful trees in October, sunshine, and still have flowers. Having said that….you did a fine job with the words this week. I love your first paragraph.

    • Reply Veronica September 29, 2013 at 5:00 pm

      Thank you so much Sabra. It must be beautiful down south right now. It would be beautiful here too if we weren’t practically drowning…lol. As it is we’re all well after a couple days of mega vitamin C. πŸ™‚

  • Reply Irene September 29, 2013 at 5:51 pm

    So the relationship with October is complicated. The descriptions are truly evocative, Veronica.

    • Reply Veronica September 30, 2013 at 4:56 am

      Thank you so much Irene. Relationships are always complicated, aren’t they? The better to write about. πŸ™‚

  • Reply francenestanley September 29, 2013 at 11:40 pm

    Great piece of writing. However, I’m glad I don’t have your memories of October. Hehe.

    • Reply Veronica September 30, 2013 at 4:57 am

      Thank you so much Francene. πŸ™‚ Actually, I really do love the autumn, but the set words led me to this composition. πŸ™‚

  • Reply Stan Ski September 30, 2013 at 12:12 am

    If you think October’s bad, wait for November…!

    • Reply Veronica September 30, 2013 at 4:58 am

      I know, right!?! πŸ™‚

  • Reply Daryl September 30, 2013 at 9:28 am

    October is NYC at its best, however, its going to have to work hard this year to beat the last 2 weeks of September … keep fighting those change of seasons bugs!

    • Reply Veronica September 30, 2013 at 6:09 pm

      Looks beautiful so far! πŸ™‚

  • Reply Judy September 30, 2013 at 3:55 pm

    Veronica, your whirl is so clever. I could never put those thoughts together. I certainly envy it when someone can make poetry with just words. If I can’t rhyme, I can’t make sense of it in my own head. Hope the flu bug doesn’t linger around for you..Happy Monday..Judy

    • Reply Veronica September 30, 2013 at 6:11 pm

      Aw, thank you so much Judy. I’ve taken so many creative writing courses in uni, but always fall back on this style. It makes me the happiest to read. Bug is gone from this house, banished! πŸ™‚

  • Reply Peppylady (Dora) September 30, 2013 at 5:43 pm

    Thanks for stopping in. I have to admit I never got the hang of writing poetry. Sorry your not feeling well having the sniffle isn’t any fun at all
    Coffee is on

    • Reply Veronica September 30, 2013 at 6:12 pm

      We’re fine now Dora, nothing that some vitamin C couldn’t handle. Thank you so much for stopping back. πŸ™‚

  • Reply purplepeninportland September 30, 2013 at 6:39 pm

    October as a light-fingered month–who wouldn’t love this concept?

    • Reply Veronica October 1, 2013 at 2:54 pm

      Hi Sara, I do love the concept. It’s a weird month to me, and, probably because I’m usually in rainy Vancouver, after the lovely long summer, a bit of an unknown weather and health wise. πŸ™‚

      • Reply purplepeninportland October 3, 2013 at 7:29 am

        I woke up to a foggy morning backdrop to a fiery-leaved maple. beautiful.

        • Reply Veronica October 3, 2013 at 4:10 pm

          Oh that sounds lovely Sara. It’s been years and years since I got down to Portland; my life usually stops at Seattle. Bad, I know. πŸ™‚

  • Reply vastlycurious.com October 1, 2013 at 6:37 pm

    You are inspiring! http://wp.me/p2dwKf-10y

    • Reply Veronica October 2, 2013 at 7:53 am

      Thank you Kathryn, you’re a total sweetie. X πŸ™‚

  • Reply Anna :o] October 3, 2013 at 4:45 am

    Agree with your sentiments…not keen on October myself, nor November, December and so on… Is it nearly spring she asked hopefully…
    Anna :o]

    • Reply Veronica October 3, 2013 at 4:12 pm

      A girl after my own damp and sniffly heart. πŸ™‚

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