Iron in the blood is crucial for oxygen transportation. Hemoglobin is an iron based part of the blood cell that allows oxygen to be stored. The iron age is also an archaeological time period. Most of the Old Testament monarchial stories take place in the iron age.
I don’t like to iron, because it is tedious and boring. But I will iron for money. Lots of money. This word has extensions, such as ironing, ironed.
Deanna Warren
Ironing out my emotions. Done crying over things that I can’t change. Done wishing things were different. Things will be smoother for me.
Verina
The girl was ordered into the laundry room. Her step-mother insisted she iron her outfit even though just a minute before the step-mother had been yelling at her for not being ready. How was she supposed to get ready if she had to iron someone else’s cloths. The rest of her day had been just as bad. As she walked in she bumped the ironing table. The iron wobbled and fell onto the carpeting. Melting the material and leaving a mark.
His arms were like iron. Unbending, unyielding. They crossed in front of her face, blocking the path so she couldn’t go any further. She started at the arm so she wouldn’t have to look at his face, because she knew that she wouldn’t like what she had to see in his face.
Joey
He grabbed her hand and grinned sadistically.
‘You’ll bring it in time, da?’
She stood shakily, and futivley tried to yank her arm out of his hand but it was no use – his grip was like iron.
‘Yes… I will.’ she whispered quietly.
Erina
I have a memory. Simple and beautiful. Being a young girl. Sitting in the family room that has now been replaced and renewed. Just wanting to finish a project. Just wanting to see the finished product of my creative abilities. But I was too young to use the iron.
You’re a librarian. You love Shakespeare and you’re in the honors college. You push your glasses up your nose. But somehow, you manage weight lifting jargon. How are you iron brain/iron arms?
My feet feel like they are wearing iron boots, I am so tired today. Actually, maybe Im a little anemic. I should check my iron. Why do the crazy times always seem to come at one time? Every minor disaster possible; the kids and husband sick, ate something bad for dinner,daughter has a dental emergency…All on a Monday. Mondays should be made of iron. Mondays probably are made of iron because they are damn hard!
kim
She held the iron pot in her hand. So old, it still shined under the florescent light. Her mother, with all her love and sadness, would make such bittersweet food from this. The salt seemed to skim the surface of her soups, bring the flavors out of her chicken. She couldn’t help but love her mother’s food, but always remind her that sorrow was at the base of her mother’s talent.
Katie
The geologist was in search of it, the rare gem all geologists longed to find. He made his way through the deep dank dark mine and emerged with what he thought was the gem. But no unfortunately it was just iron.
Bootsie
Iron scent filled her lungs. The sky was green, and the ocean reeling. Dark purple clouds loomed in the distance, filled with drops of acid rain. There’s no turning back now.
Emily
Iron sharpens Iron. Well, sharpen your communication skills because you’re playing with fire. I’m a lady who needs communication and intellectual stimulation so sharpen your iron of
I need more iron in my blood. I used to take vitamins for it, but now I’ve been off of them for a while and I’m starting to get those anemic feelings back again. It really sucks. Make sure you have enough iron in your blood, but not too much.
Anonymous
I glared at it and lifted the golf club. I had no idea the name or the brand or if it was even a real 9-iron, but it gasped and fell to the floor. “No, please!” It cried. “Not the golf club, take anything else, but leave the golf club alone!” I stared at it, stupefied. How much could this thing be worth? Shrugging, I threw it out the window and the thing cried “Nooo!”
Eliseo
the iron cane led him to his destiny. he always knew what he wanted, he always knew what he needed to do, but he never saw the end. such a long path with what seemed to be an endless journey. but now here he was at the top to where his iron cane had led him.
iron, really? i hope we are talking about the metal. because oh how i hate to iron! if there is anything to iron, do not call on me. i seem to only press the wrinkles in, instead of getting them out! :P
Michaels
It was in the late day, the day’s when the men wore the skins of the animals killed on great hunts, that the falling of the day would bring such great pains. I was just a small one then, but the pain as the great orb diminished was evident even to me upon the faces of the elders. And at night the constant clanking. And never the cries of ecstasy.
iron age was a period after the bronze age and the roman empire. so romans werent able to catch up with the iron age. they were living in thebronze age, while we see shining steel swords in films.
eop
It is used to release wrinkles from clothes using heat. Metal on the bottom. Also uses steam to get rid of wrinkles. It is also an element within the earth used in many appliances and everyday items. The core of the Earth contains a good amount of iron.
Izzy
ironic. iron. love like it’s the last day, because sometimes that’s all you get. It’s all you’ll ever get. And isn’t it ironic? Isn’t life meant to be lived to the fullest? Except, of course, in those moment when you realize that you don’t want to risk being silly, or something like that.
Dorothy
He lay in the black dirt at the foot of the volcano. Covered in ash, he felt defeat in him, he would never be among the greats who reached for the skies, weighed down in by his iron mail. Submitting to the weakness in him, he felt a surge of lightness, of acceptance of fate. The very moment he thought of as failure would redeem him, as fate had plans for him he yet knew not. The volcano erupted… The blackness and the heat engulfed him, he knew not what was happening, he knew not if this was death… As the madness and violence of nature died down, there from the cooling earth he rose reborn in steel, reaching for higher ground. From the bottom, there is only one way out. Up.
Iron is a type of metal. It’s also what you use to IRON your clothes. “I am going to iron my pants.” “I found some iron in this mine.”
Damaris
Iron-fisted, iron-willed. I have the will, but it’s rusting. Rusting in the grip of an iron-fist, a weight around my dreams. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Or is there? An iron will can rust, crumble into splinters that lodge in the heart as poison. Can break down into vile toxins that kill. But an iron fist will never break. Clamped, clenched, immovable as Fate’s rule.
it’s cast in the heat of hell,
molten like lava drooling
alongside mountains
and abandoned third-world villages.
it’s hardened,
like a spirit
of someone who’s
taken his licks.
Iron. Strike while it’s hot. Even out the wrinkles. Sort things through and straighten them out. All strong euphemisms for a strong element. Elementary.
iron is strong yet delicate enough to displace even the smallest wrinkle. Even on days where its cold or raining iron holds strong. Even in old age iron does not give. Iron is hot and cold at the same time.
Mike Ferrell
The metal glows orange near the fire, absorbing the heat from the flames that lick the wood, sparking green from the sea salt still coating the bark. Old, wrinkled hands reach out and grip the handle, wrapped in a stained gray cloth, and bring it away from the fire to cool slightly before passing over thick woolen pants.
Katie
I am going to have a will of iron as I make this transition from my sacred office space and art studio back home. I am going to create wonderful spaces at home, get rid of lots of things, remember that simplicity is going to be my salvation, and that change can be a catalyst for growth and wisdom — also blessings. Hooray!
Carol Bailey Floyd
iron…. what is iron… is it physical or spiritual, ethereal iron?? i always tendo to go to the unmaterialized side of life… so iron is will… iron will… that i believe is important!
Eduardo Emílio
hot and makes clothes flat.
strong but rusts easily, though when treated can be stronger and last longer than any other metal.
nails. tough. strong. hammer. mix.
Insane
road
na
Nikki
“Oh, the irony.” Sheila sighed, scooping her toddler up. “A man who hates to run can dash off from his family like that!” She snapped her fingers, barely managing a smile as her baby giggled. Ignoring looks from other mothers, she proudly headed towards the stairs.
idgfdkgn
I once, was ironing. Then i burnt myself. It hurt, so i put ice on it. The ice stuck, now theres a scar. Damnit
iron me so that i may be flat. take out all the wrinkles so that i may be presentable to bosses and parents. heat me so that i resist entropy and my atoms are disciplined into the order that they despise.
I always pondered the materials inside of iron. Like my dad always said, there’s iron to be found in everybody; a certain strongness and passion that nobody can deterr from a person. I can still hear his laugh as his iron-dirtied hands touched mine, and how big they were compared to my measly fingers. I loved that time of day, when Dad would come home all filthy
well iron is a metal but it is a synonym for “having a wiry constitution”, a must for every man who wants to succeed in the wide world!!
vaishnavi
The iron industry isn’t something you want to mess with, or so I’ve heard. BNut what do I know? I;m just the son of a guy who works in coal mines, trying to make a living. It’s sad, you know, when he comes home and he’s covered in filth. He’s always tired, with bags under his eyes, looking cold and lonely on the inside. It makes me feel like I should be working there instead of him!
Iron in the blood is crucial for oxygen transportation. Hemoglobin is an iron based part of the blood cell that allows oxygen to be stored. The iron age is also an archaeological time period. Most of the Old Testament monarchial stories take place in the iron age.
I don’t like to iron, because it is tedious and boring. But I will iron for money. Lots of money. This word has extensions, such as ironing, ironed.
Ironing out my emotions. Done crying over things that I can’t change. Done wishing things were different. Things will be smoother for me.
The girl was ordered into the laundry room. Her step-mother insisted she iron her outfit even though just a minute before the step-mother had been yelling at her for not being ready. How was she supposed to get ready if she had to iron someone else’s cloths. The rest of her day had been just as bad. As she walked in she bumped the ironing table. The iron wobbled and fell onto the carpeting. Melting the material and leaving a mark.
His arms were like iron. Unbending, unyielding. They crossed in front of her face, blocking the path so she couldn’t go any further. She started at the arm so she wouldn’t have to look at his face, because she knew that she wouldn’t like what she had to see in his face.
He grabbed her hand and grinned sadistically.
‘You’ll bring it in time, da?’
She stood shakily, and futivley tried to yank her arm out of his hand but it was no use – his grip was like iron.
‘Yes… I will.’ she whispered quietly.
I have a memory. Simple and beautiful. Being a young girl. Sitting in the family room that has now been replaced and renewed. Just wanting to finish a project. Just wanting to see the finished product of my creative abilities. But I was too young to use the iron.
Red, dusty mine sites, blasting banded iron formations deposited millions of years before
You’re a librarian. You love Shakespeare and you’re in the honors college. You push your glasses up your nose. But somehow, you manage weight lifting jargon. How are you iron brain/iron arms?
My feet feel like they are wearing iron boots, I am so tired today. Actually, maybe Im a little anemic. I should check my iron. Why do the crazy times always seem to come at one time? Every minor disaster possible; the kids and husband sick, ate something bad for dinner,daughter has a dental emergency…All on a Monday. Mondays should be made of iron. Mondays probably are made of iron because they are damn hard!
She held the iron pot in her hand. So old, it still shined under the florescent light. Her mother, with all her love and sadness, would make such bittersweet food from this. The salt seemed to skim the surface of her soups, bring the flavors out of her chicken. She couldn’t help but love her mother’s food, but always remind her that sorrow was at the base of her mother’s talent.
The geologist was in search of it, the rare gem all geologists longed to find. He made his way through the deep dank dark mine and emerged with what he thought was the gem. But no unfortunately it was just iron.
Iron scent filled her lungs. The sky was green, and the ocean reeling. Dark purple clouds loomed in the distance, filled with drops of acid rain. There’s no turning back now.
Iron sharpens Iron. Well, sharpen your communication skills because you’re playing with fire. I’m a lady who needs communication and intellectual stimulation so sharpen your iron of
I need more iron in my blood. I used to take vitamins for it, but now I’ve been off of them for a while and I’m starting to get those anemic feelings back again. It really sucks. Make sure you have enough iron in your blood, but not too much.
I glared at it and lifted the golf club. I had no idea the name or the brand or if it was even a real 9-iron, but it gasped and fell to the floor. “No, please!” It cried. “Not the golf club, take anything else, but leave the golf club alone!” I stared at it, stupefied. How much could this thing be worth? Shrugging, I threw it out the window and the thing cried “Nooo!”
the iron cane led him to his destiny. he always knew what he wanted, he always knew what he needed to do, but he never saw the end. such a long path with what seemed to be an endless journey. but now here he was at the top to where his iron cane had led him.
iron, really? i hope we are talking about the metal. because oh how i hate to iron! if there is anything to iron, do not call on me. i seem to only press the wrinkles in, instead of getting them out! :P
It was in the late day, the day’s when the men wore the skins of the animals killed on great hunts, that the falling of the day would bring such great pains. I was just a small one then, but the pain as the great orb diminished was evident even to me upon the faces of the elders. And at night the constant clanking. And never the cries of ecstasy.
I wish my heart was made of iron. So that it couldn’t be torn apart.
iron age was a period after the bronze age and the roman empire. so romans werent able to catch up with the iron age. they were living in thebronze age, while we see shining steel swords in films.
It is used to release wrinkles from clothes using heat. Metal on the bottom. Also uses steam to get rid of wrinkles. It is also an element within the earth used in many appliances and everyday items. The core of the Earth contains a good amount of iron.
ironic. iron. love like it’s the last day, because sometimes that’s all you get. It’s all you’ll ever get. And isn’t it ironic? Isn’t life meant to be lived to the fullest? Except, of course, in those moment when you realize that you don’t want to risk being silly, or something like that.
He lay in the black dirt at the foot of the volcano. Covered in ash, he felt defeat in him, he would never be among the greats who reached for the skies, weighed down in by his iron mail. Submitting to the weakness in him, he felt a surge of lightness, of acceptance of fate. The very moment he thought of as failure would redeem him, as fate had plans for him he yet knew not. The volcano erupted… The blackness and the heat engulfed him, he knew not what was happening, he knew not if this was death… As the madness and violence of nature died down, there from the cooling earth he rose reborn in steel, reaching for higher ground. From the bottom, there is only one way out. Up.
Iron is a type of metal. It’s also what you use to IRON your clothes. “I am going to iron my pants.” “I found some iron in this mine.”
Iron-fisted, iron-willed. I have the will, but it’s rusting. Rusting in the grip of an iron-fist, a weight around my dreams. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Or is there? An iron will can rust, crumble into splinters that lodge in the heart as poison. Can break down into vile toxins that kill. But an iron fist will never break. Clamped, clenched, immovable as Fate’s rule.
Iron coloured skies seem to reflect my mood today.
it’s cast in the heat of hell,
molten like lava drooling
alongside mountains
and abandoned third-world villages.
it’s hardened,
like a spirit
of someone who’s
taken his licks.
Iron. Strike while it’s hot. Even out the wrinkles. Sort things through and straighten them out. All strong euphemisms for a strong element. Elementary.
iron is strong yet delicate enough to displace even the smallest wrinkle. Even on days where its cold or raining iron holds strong. Even in old age iron does not give. Iron is hot and cold at the same time.
The metal glows orange near the fire, absorbing the heat from the flames that lick the wood, sparking green from the sea salt still coating the bark. Old, wrinkled hands reach out and grip the handle, wrapped in a stained gray cloth, and bring it away from the fire to cool slightly before passing over thick woolen pants.
I am going to have a will of iron as I make this transition from my sacred office space and art studio back home. I am going to create wonderful spaces at home, get rid of lots of things, remember that simplicity is going to be my salvation, and that change can be a catalyst for growth and wisdom — also blessings. Hooray!
iron…. what is iron… is it physical or spiritual, ethereal iron?? i always tendo to go to the unmaterialized side of life… so iron is will… iron will… that i believe is important!
hot and makes clothes flat.
strong but rusts easily, though when treated can be stronger and last longer than any other metal.
nails. tough. strong. hammer. mix.
Insane
road
na
“Oh, the irony.” Sheila sighed, scooping her toddler up. “A man who hates to run can dash off from his family like that!” She snapped her fingers, barely managing a smile as her baby giggled. Ignoring looks from other mothers, she proudly headed towards the stairs.
I once, was ironing. Then i burnt myself. It hurt, so i put ice on it. The ice stuck, now theres a scar. Damnit
iron me so that i may be flat. take out all the wrinkles so that i may be presentable to bosses and parents. heat me so that i resist entropy and my atoms are disciplined into the order that they despise.
I always pondered the materials inside of iron. Like my dad always said, there’s iron to be found in everybody; a certain strongness and passion that nobody can deterr from a person. I can still hear his laugh as his iron-dirtied hands touched mine, and how big they were compared to my measly fingers. I loved that time of day, when Dad would come home all filthy
well iron is a metal but it is a synonym for “having a wiry constitution”, a must for every man who wants to succeed in the wide world!!
The iron industry isn’t something you want to mess with, or so I’ve heard. BNut what do I know? I;m just the son of a guy who works in coal mines, trying to make a living. It’s sad, you know, when he comes home and he’s covered in filth. He’s always tired, with bags under his eyes, looking cold and lonely on the inside. It makes me feel like I should be working there instead of him!