We weary walkers wander walkways

wondering when we will witness

wonderfully wooded Wisteria Way,

where we will welcome woodland worlds

which will withstand wilting walkers.

Wincing, we wobble wistfully,

wanting windblown woods

which will wake weary worn walkers.

Wait! Weather's worsening!

We wearily walk.....

This poem is in response to dverse's prompt to write a Quadrille poem which contains 44 words and which must have the word 'way' in it.

I have penned it as a 'tautogram' poem where each word must begin with the same letter, in this case, 'w'.


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