Napalm’s Swans

I’m moved and delighted that, once more, my poem fit the NaPoWriMo prompt: “…for our daily prompt…I’d like to challenge you today to write a poem about an animal.”

Today’s prompt: daffodil, swan, napalm

Do daffodils bloom

Where hell’s horror napalm burned

Children, souls now swans

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.


Of Bottles On Windowsill

Word limit: under 150

Bottles in pub window (The Green Dragon in Wymondham)


Delightful bottles on windowsill

Contain curatives for every ill…

Measured great or small, they will

Perk heart up, help mind to still.

If you’re feeling chill, then swill

Enough to swallow healthful squill*

(Not to fret, doubt it would kill)

And any prescribed herbal pill.

Improvement quick, elixirs instill…

Such that patients feel new thrill.

Down the hill from Quixote’s windmill

Myself, I holidayed by clear rill**

Took refilled flask, lest one drop spill

Of lovely distilled daffodil.

I sipped and drank…am drinking still

A toast to bottles of windowsill!

*Bulb of the sea squill, which is sliced, dried, and used as an expectorant
**A small stream

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.