Seven nameless scraps seeking reunion…
Each week The Sunday Whirl invites writers to write a poem or short prose using some or all of the “Wordle’s” 12 words. This week it is:
wordle’s words
Separation
Seven nameless scraps
scrape
along a plate.
“Crumbs you are,” the main dish cried.
“Why do you scramble so?”
Seven nameless scraps
looked up
from the once brimming plate,
“Crumbs we may be now, sir,
Yet we long for more.”
“There is nothing left,
save you.” The main dish
laughed. “So
silly to see you peck
for naught.”
Silent,
seven nameless scraps,
froze in place upon their plate,
estranged, made
inessential.
Randy Mazie
The Writer's Village 
Nothing is wasted so the rats told me.
seven nameless scraps
for seven dirty rats…
works for me.
Thanks for commenting.
Randy
Such an original and wonderful metaphor..at once witty and so full of wisdom…i will treat my peas with a little more respect at tea tonight!
Thanks.
The peas say, please…
and thank you.
Randy
powerful, the way your words speak give us inspirations.
Thanks.
I’m glad it’s inspiration, and not indigestion.
Randy 😉
I love this and I’m sure it would be good for children also. Perfect!
lovely.