April 30, Napowrimo 2026. I decided yesterday that I would not be following today’s prompt because I had already been inspired to write something. Over the weekend read a post on LinkedIn about an elephant that had done something remarkable and someone commented that it was “elephantastic”. I was so struck by this word and, having coincidentally read about a writer who invented their own words where none suited the intended meaning (don’t ask me who, I have no idea now, but it was something to do with making an excuse at a party and never coming back) that I decided to write a poem including this fabulous new word.
I thought on how it rhymed well with ekphrastic, so chose a work of art by one of my favourite artists to reflect on both the work and my experience of this month, then began writing it Wednesday evening.
And then I woke this morning to read the prompt (try writing your own poem that discusses a real or mythical being or profession with a dispassionate tone) only to find that Maureen was serving serendipity for breakfast; so, the pachyderms changed paths to meet the prompt.
Long-legged footsteps drum, summoning solar fan-flares to incinerate the dawn,
Blazing into high skies, burn the songs of a million dazzling daffodils.
April is descending on the Desert of Decay.
The disciples of Vac, Ogma, Bragi and Murugan,
Hover in wingless windmill minarets above monochrome Persian rugs
That hang with hemlock scented dreadlocks from the back of a gargantuan caravan.
For eleven months and long they wander the Wilderness of Words,
Soaring in flights of fancy over the Prose Rose Prairie,
Only stopping to bathe in the dreamy, creamy Ocean of Notions.
From the Mango Steppes of Siva, mist-dipped Mich Mountains and steam-drenched Boquet Bayou; they come.
Leaving behind scented Manilla Everglades, dark Leonard Lakes and the soft-sand-washed beaches of Gloria Bay; homes departed.
Answering the call of April’s one-eyed Castle in Spain; they arrive.
Vague Ink spirits that haunt the rainbow splintered dimensions of an unspoken multiverse.
Miners of the Hollow Mountains whose murky unicorns of meaning are
Nourished only by the unseen breath of the Stimulus Platypus.
In the bubbling spiced kasbahs and souks of crenelated minds,
Where cardamom, saffron and sage stain and steep each page,
They barter, banter, dicker and exchange.
For thirty days and nights these dervishes will whirl and waltz with words,
Until, sated by the Moor’s phenomenal feast,
They ascend their elephantastic charges to rewander their worlds.
Missives & Musings 