Monday 17.04: Nothing delighted her more than pink sherbet served in champagne flutes.
Tuesday 18.04: Marooned on an isle, they crooned a merry tune to wile away the hours.
Wednesday 19.04: Red streamers race across sun-setting sea.
Thursday 20.04: Know as Radical Red for her socialist tendencies, she hennaed her hair to match her name.
Friday 21. 04: She looked “mauvelous” in her new lilac ensemble for the spring ball.
Saturday 22.04: Note on his door read, “Gone in search of the wild watermelon. Back Tuesday next.”
Sunday 23.04. She thought of Scarlet O’Hara, yes “tomorrow is another day.”
Monday 24.04: Four friends pleasantly chatted, white wine in glasses, salmon planked on the barbeque.*
Tuesday 25.04: He turned brick red; his fly was open and he eschewed underwear.
Wednesday 26.04: Snow, once white (white) and Victorianly pure, now sullied by soot and daily grime.
Thursday 27.04: He had the wild eyes of a lone timberwolf; savage soul quickened by the smell of the hunt.
Friday 28.04: Her father would warble, “Silver threads among the gold/You, my dear, are growing old.”**
Saturday 29.04: Moral issues were her gray areas; deceit and subterfuge those were black and white.
Sunday April 30: Inky blackness sliced by sliver of moon; stardust forms galaxies within her personal cosmos.
#cyw 17.04 to 30.04.17: pink sherbet maroon red radical red mauvelous wild watermelon scarlet salmon brick red white (white) timberwolf silver gray black
** actual lyric: “ Darling, I am growing old/Silver threads among the gold.” Silver Threads Among the Gold (1873) lyrics: Eben E. Rexford, music: Hart Pease Danks
image: wokandapix via pixabay.com
Thanks for hosting this again, Jennifer. I didn’t bounce around the other participants’ blogs as much as I should or wanted to during the challenge. Perhaps later I will get the chance. Hope you might consider this again next year . . . Til then, I’ll keep my crayons sharpened.