Worgle 252 from The Sunday Whirl is a particularly hard one to do with all words in the order given, plus brevity, rhyme, and sense. Here, the sense requires a particularly agile imagination:
On mission, when unwilling to be lost,
Tolls keep on track to sense misleading gloss;
Though itch, some nights, no bell should pay such cost,
Rings spring to stand against direction loss.
Colonialist's Blog 
I tip my imaginary hat to you. I can’t write a poem that rhymes when I get to pick my own words! Super duper! You’re quite the trooper! Oh, hey! I did it! 🙂
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See? Nothing to it! Easy-peasy, simple-wimple! 🙂
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Oh, very good, Col!
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Appreciate that sentiment!
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Amazing! If you can smoothly do 12 given words in 4 lines that is certainly a heroic effort
Hank.
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Thanks – I must admit, though, that I have done a lot better on some of the previous batches.
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Oh man- that is excellent!
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The ‘gloss’ only just squeaks in, though!
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Enough, Les. You don’t have to put yourself through that torture, but I suppose that having started you are unwilling to give in.
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*hopefully* Maybe the next combination and sequence will be kinder?
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