| || swirl, ninth, govern, weasel, stern warning.
Image from the Internet.
The opening poem contains all the words (or variations of them) from today's Jumble.
Comments are welcomed!
Do not explicitly reveal any of the actual answer words until after closing time, but embedding them surreptitiously in comment sentences is encouraged.
15 comments:
Well actually she wasn't in the back of the boat -- the kids were. So whatever she said came from the middle or the bow. Nitpicking again, I suppose!
Phil came home from a night with the boys
Drunk as a skunk, and making some noise.
Nancy, his wife, saw him swirl round the room
And contemplated bashing the weasel with a broom.
This was the ninth time he'd got drunk this month.
If he couldn't govern himself, he was sunk.
He got a stern warning when he woke up next day
That Nancy would leave him, unless he joined A.A.
So he went to the meetings and got himself sober.
Helped others with recovery, over and over.
This poem's not funny, I hear you whine,
So we'll leave hero Phil in the non-spiked punch line.
I had a wonderful stage manager who was the daughter of the owner of a funeral parlor. She told me tales of growing up on those somber premises--with as many as five bodies at a time in the different chapels, not to mention those being "prepped" in the basement.
They had open or shut caskets lying "in state"--or for "coffin grief"--prior to the trips to the cemetery for burial.
They did not handle cremations in those years, but if they did, I wonder if they would have had a period of "urn mourning" in their procedure.
Owen ~ Well, maybe it isn't funny
But it's a real honey
Of technique.
You, sir, are on a streak.
(Say "Yay"
For A.A.)
Sandy ~ Perhaps you were thinking today's solution should be named for its point of origin? It seems, however, that the Jumblers named it for its destination.
So, maybe the nit needn't be picked this time?
But overall I appreciate & enjoy your concern for accuracy and keeping us all to a high standard.
~ OMK
The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville team that night
In the preceding eight innings they hadn't put up a fight
And so when Pat McTiernan took a called third strike
And Tommy Foley popped to third, what was there to like?
Bobby Lee was a busher and Heinzy even worse
But Bobby weaseled out a walk and of course
Heinzy scratched a single. And who now should stride
Up to the plate but mighty Wilbur in all his pride.
Last of the ninth, two men on base could this be the inning?
Would Wilbur blast one out or would he go down swinging.
As the dust swirled about the field the fans were hard to govern.
"Play ball!", the umpire said in a voice both loud and stern.
Warning both teams and especially the cocky Wilbur
That feisty Jocko Donlan was in charge for sure.
Two strikes flew past ol' Wilbur, his face was turning red
But now the look on Wilbur's face clearly meant 'nuf said*.
The spheroid flew could Mudville stand the strain?
Wilbur took a might cut and yes he'd whiffed again.
Somewhere birds are cheeping, children laugh and play
But Wilbur has a ticket on the bush league expressway
*'Nuf-said Mcgreevy was a famous Boston bartender at the turn of the century. He led the total rooters in singing Tessie
Yes, "CHEEPING". You'll see where that came from
I wasn't going to do this but since Owen, our force majeure has opened the 12 Step meeting, I finished off something I started several years ago. I've entitled it "H is for..."*
Harry came to the halls one day
He said ” I've nowhere else to go".
He was met by smiling faces,
A cup of coffee, and a warm hello
.
“I'm in a bad way, I just can't cope,
Nor put down the drink, I fear”.
We're glad you came, for there is Hope.
We have a plan and it starts right Here.
For Helplessness and unmanageability
Begin now by accepting your futility.
There's hope in these halls, accept our word
It's all explained in the second and third
Steps on the wall. Ask Whomever for the gift of acceptance
Then comes housecleaning and readiness for repentance .
Humility is the guiding principle to pray for now
Honesty, too, is key, a Sponsor'll show you how.
You'll need pen and paper to make a list
Of those character defects you so love to resist
Dropping. As we all did my friend,
Recovery depends on the effort you expend .
If you're House is clean, Harmony brings bliss,
Serenity, peace and joy. That's our promise.
Is the fruit worth the effort? Wait there is more
Did we mention Higher Power? He's yours to explore.
Step 11 suggests quiet prayer and meditation
It's all in the Big Book under "There is a Solution.
But wait, if recovery and Healing has been given to you
We suggest helping others, it's what you'll want to do.
Keep coming to the Halls, it's the best way to cope.
Listen and share: Experience, Strength and Hope.
* The book actually proceeded that title. Two great minds?
I had the "H" words in bold. Special characters don't make it over from Docs where I compose.
We often say, "Thanks for sharing," Wilbur, when we see a post that has such a personal spin to it. But in this case I want to underscore my gratitude. I count myself fortunate that I have not myself had the need of a rescue that has saved so many other lives, but I have a profound respect for the work of A.A., and I find your sincere and un-ironic poem very moving indeed.
While I may be lucky that my particular genetic material has spared me, I come from a family afflicted by alcoholism. Sadly, my "baby sister" died in her early 60s because she was too ashamed of the disease to seek help.
We did not know she was a secret drinker, even after many family gatherings at which we lamented our father's and grandfathers' early deaths from it. The stigma attached by society to this illness--treating it as a moral weakness--kept her away from doctors in general lest she be discovered.
She died one Easter Day of a readily curable sickness because she let it grow beyond repair while hiding from medical help because of her "problem."
~ OMK
My goodness, my goodness! Overwhelming poetry this morning--an incredible gift to our blog, and on a difficult and serious subject. Thank you, Owen and Wilbur, for your amazing talent and its deployment on this morning, and every day. And thank you, Ol'Man Keith, by following up with your devastating family story to give the subject a significant reality.
I had to work a bit on the Jumble words, but got them. Only the solution eluded me, so I came here, and TADA! there it was in Ol'Man Keith's neat gloss. And then the Jumble solution's dire warning translated into the powerful poetry, and the heartbreaking story you've given us. Thank you, all, again. And, Sandy, I concur with Keith's appreciation of your comments.
First, I greatly appreciated Owen's and Wilbur's poems today.
Second, OMK, I detected a note of sarcasm in your comment about my post, whether rightly or wrongly, and it has motivated me to pay more heed to an old saying that was one of of my mother's favorites: If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. So no more nitpicking. I will muffle my negativistic bent and focus on positives.
Sandy, just be yourself. Yes the warning didn't come FROM the stern. Yes, we five must be free to comment freely. And we must be grateful that the Anonatrolls have not infested our little patch.
Btw, the other place calls it the thumper rule.
Glad you liked my poems. My very first versification was a "Casey"* takeoff entitled Grogan at the Helm.
"The outlook wasn't brilliant for our Patriot team last night
The record in Miami was known as the Orange blight" (40 lines more )
Btw, my Bilbo saga went to 40 pages in the PDF.
WC
Yes, Wilbur, I did appreciate the authenticity of your second poem, but your first one truly made me laugh, especially when it ended with "Mighty Wilbur" striking out. I always remember that even a 333 batting average means only hitting a third of the time.
Sarcasm.
Moi??
Oui, vous.
[Sigh}
It's that same old gap between the nobility and common folk in pre-1918 Russia:
The...
Tsar-
Chasm.
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