It's half past weekend freewrite o'clock.
It seems it marks the time of the week for loosening of association.
Once upon a steemy Sunday afternoon I called my offerings word salad.
I served it cold and bold, and combined sometimes, the most unusual and unpalatable of ingredients.
A splatter platter, for consumption by the brave, the naive and the, too polite to say,
That just ain't digestible dear.
Today am withdrawing the association of consumption.
This tea party offers no treats.
The content of the tea in fact may be questionable. Perhaps someone spiked the weekend write?
It seems to derail each week of late. And yes I must address, I am again late for this date, for
it is Monday morning here. The weekend has passed.
But perhaps not there, perhaps you are still weekending, I am banking on that. For perchance my clock runs ahead of yours, of many a steemit clock.
My clock, it has a starters handicap that I often utilise.
It clears the path ahead and conceals my tardiness and procrastination within it's global proximity.
This is indeed not a salad dears. Not edible. Do not ingest, lest risk infest.
To demonstrate that I have retained some insight into things pertaining to a decent from the tangible and to acknowledge the obscurity of the word play and construction there of.
Let us call this skittle... Word spittle.
On no platter was it served, this splattering of word, a smatter most absurd, do not hatted as a curd.
It's mother merely establishes contact
By scratching the infant's basket with a fingernail
The other queerly brandishes a contract
The snatching of inferred bastards with a paper trail
The buffer clearly nay banishes impact
No detaching the instinct, blasting will not curtail
Love that dearly inspire auspicious connect
Eye catching the instant, fast tracked with a betrayal
It has been raging for years, in the rural community
Weighing heavy on the hearts of people
It has been waging for fears, with their moral consumity
Paying levy as they part with fetal
It's been raining their tears, with a mortal impunity
Swaying heady, from remark spiked steeple
It's been paining, stops here, with no more to immunity
Laying ready, time remakes pikes lethal
The iron was heavy
The lion was ready
The ion had steadied
The line had serried
The charge was impending
The barge was descending
Surcharge expanding
Scourge past extending
Too large expending
At large defending
Imminent ending
Sinner sent rending.