de Jackson, (aka WhimsyGizmo) is hosting the dVerse Poets Pub tonight, and she asks us to create a Quadrille (44 words) incorporating the word stir.
when I come across
a lone cufflink,
chipped button off an old
dress shirt —
and you’ve been gone,
what?
thirty-some years now —
I still get that
sweet fluffy stir in
my tummy like
baby butterflies gone
mad.
We’ll be together soon…
on my way…
This week at Song Lyric Sunday, Jim has given us the prompt of listen/hear/talk/speak. I’ve chosen Rhythm of the Rain, by The Cascades from 1963.
Song Facts:
This was written by The Cascades lead singer John Gummoe, who told us the story in October 2008: “I wrote ‘Rhythm of the Rain’ over a period of time, but the lyrics began while I was serving in the U.S. Navy aboard the U.S.S. Jason AR8. I was standing a mid watch on the bridge while we were underway to Japan. We were sailing up in the north pacific and it was raining heavily and the seas were tossing.
The title came to me first and I liked the ‘ring’ of it, the way it flowed, and that night I wrote down most of the lyrics. It was like the rain was talking. It was later on that I sat down at a piano and was fooling around with the black keys and started playing a sequence from E flat down to F sharp, well, if you do it you’ll see it’s the melody that is now stuck in the heads of millions of people around the world. Later on, when we did a demo on the song, that great little ding-ding thing that goes FC-FC, DA, DA came to be. The great arranger Perry Botkin Jr. enhanced that little hook and it was producer Barry De Vorzon who came up with the idea of opening the song with that famous burst of thunder.”
This was recorded at Gold Star Studios in Los Angeles, which is where Phil Spector produced many of his hits. Some of the elite west coast studio musicians played on this song, including the legendary session drummer Hal Blaine and guitarist Glen Campbell.
Lyrics:
Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain
Telling me just what a fool I’ve been
I wish that it would go and let me cry in vain
And let me be alone again
The only girl I care about has gone away
Looking for a brand new start
But little does she know
That when she left that day
Along with her she took my heart
Rain please tell me now does that seem fair
For her to steal my heart away when she don’t care
I can’t love another when my hearts somewhere far away
The only girl I care about has gone away
Looking for a brand new start
But little does she know that when she left that day
Along with her she took my heart
[Instrumental Interlude]
Rain won’t you tell her that I love her so
Please ask the sun to set her heart aglow
Rain in her heart and let the love we knew start to grow
Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain
Telling me just what a fool I’ve been
I wish that it would go and let me cry in vain
And let me be alone again
Oh, listen to the falling rain
Pitter pater, pitter pater
Oh, oh, oh, listen to the falling rain
Pitter patter, pitter patter…
This weeks writing prompt at Six-Word-Story Prompt is food.
Food should be eaten, not heard.
It’s time for some really bad poetry again! This time, Chelsea Ann Owens has given us “Little Willie” as the prompt.
Little Willie turned eighteen
so his father bought him a car.
As he handed him the keys
He said “Son, drive fast; drive far.”
Willie headed for Hollywood
to become a movie star
but at acting he was no damn good
and he ended up tending bar.
One night there came a woman
who ordered cherry cola
He asked her for her name
she replied simply,. “Lola.”
“L-O-L-A, Lola?”
“Ah! The man can spell!
“Let’s get married, Lola.”
“Okay, what the hell!”
Due to inexperience
Little Willie soon discerned
There really is no difference
between boys boys and girls.
This week at Friday Fictioneers, our photo prompt is the image above by Dawn Miller.
Julie parked her truck at the end of the her uncle’s drive and cut the engine.
The memory of what happened here all those summers ago still burned as if it were yesterday.
She’d waited to tell her parents until the vacation was over and they were back home. After that, she never saw her uncle or those horrible cousins again. In fact, neither the incident nor their names were ever mentioned. It might just as well not have happened.
Oh, but it did.
Julie remembered every detail of what they’d done, and it was time to make them pay.
Ergo, the Ogre 