I love prompts! The Tulsa Writer's group always brought out the best in me. I hope this is weekly.
Daily would suit me.

I will post these sketches that I just wrote and tell you at the end what it is if you haven't guessed by then.

R

for remembrance,
she said.
What was her name?
loony? toony?
I forget,
but her laughter cackles over the radio waves
inside my head.
Each time I crush these grey pine-needled leaves,
I think of her.

S

I stuffed wisdom into that goose
with hard croutons soaking up the grease!
I gandered at it cooling there.
Dreamed of it taking flight into my mouth.
Entranced, I forgot the virtue of patience.
My feathers drooled.

T

What is the hour
that snuggles between the mint and rue?
Dangles over the flint rock wall,
aromatic to the very minute of my tender touch?
It slips delicately overtongue,
its last thought mouthing 'beef'.

P

Buttery white balls,
green flecked,
greeted me today
and
I
am
ten again
standing in the cafeteria line,
asking Mrs. Toy to fill my tray.
The saltiness of butter,
the potatoed heartiness,
the little flecks of ...

parsley, sage, rosemary or thyme.

© Kåre Enga

Got it? Scarborough Fair? Right?
Did you get Rosemary Clooney?
Odd, how these things work.
Hadn't thought of Mrs. Toy in years ...

Thanks a whole bunch.