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| sunny, laugh, deface, locket, close at hand.Image from the Internet.
The opening poem contains all the words (or variations of them) from today's Jumble.
Comments are welcomed! And couching them in Poetry is definitely NOT required.
Do not explicitly reveal any of the actual answer words until after closing time, but embedding them surreptitiously in comment sentences is encouraged.
13 comments:
Lisa was a sunny child
Who loved to laugh and play.
In the fields close at hand
She'd frolic all the day!
Her father raised her fondly,
In remembrance of his wife,
To not deface her passing,
For in dying gave Lisa life.
A picture in her golden locket
Was all the mother Lisa knew.
But her father told her often,
"She's an angel watching you."
Sorry to be so glurgy. I'd much rather be funny, but that wasn't the direction Erato was going today. Thalia must be on vacation.
"Glurgy"?
Thanks, Owen ~ You got me to look it up: what a great word! I can't wait to use it myself.
But what the hey? Your poem reminds us there needs to be room for the sentimental side. We have to allow spacetime to absorb sweet pain, a salve to close old wounds.
Sandy FLN: Sorry, I can't understand O.P.'s quotation either, not beyond the basic sense that sometimes you just have to duck.
In today's poem, a single dad explains to his boy something about the erratic nature of his bipolar girlfriend with the ironic nickname.
(The title? Oh, that hints at a folk remedy.)
"Hose that Gland"
"I gave 'Sunny' a locket with a cameo lid.
She didn't like the cover, so de-faced it, son.
She laughed far too much at what she did,
then closed her hands in solemn benediction."
~ OMK
Chet now had a sunny disposition, he no more wore da face
Ready with a laugh, ready with a smile, ready to help in any case
With Big Book close at hand a Higher Power by his side he had no fear
Confident that an anniversary locket would be his at the end of a year
WC
Owen and I have brought a Misty style , upbeat message today.
OMK I drafted a reply to your French Connection but I see I never posted. Here it is
OMK let's look at a classic French poem
Maître Corbeau, sur un arbre perché,
Tenait en son bec un fromage.
Maître Renard, par l'odeur alléché,
Lui tint à peu près ce langage:
Hé! Bonjour, Monsieur du Corbeau.
Que vous êtes joli! Que vous me semblez beau!
Sans mentir, si votre ramage
Se rapporte à votre plumage,
Vous êtes le phénix des hôtes de ces bois.
Beautiful beat. I memorized this at age 16 and I'm sure the rhythm and rhyme stayed with me
And LaFontaine does the dialog shift too. But his lines are shorter. I've stayed away from (for the most part) switching , as you say, syllable count.
WC
You can guess what happens next Monsieur Stork opens his mouth to sing and there goes the cheese.
"Beloved Colleague"
Bunny was a real honey--
she was joyful and funny and sunny.
Even when she made a rare gaffe,
it always just made her laugh.
She did everything with grace,
and did nothing ever deface.
When she retired, we gave her a locket
and a prize to put in her pocket.
On a podium we asked her to stand
so we could applaud her close at hand.
Now the dreams to which she aspired,
she can pursue, since she has retired.
Owen, I loved your poem this morning, and it saddens me a little that you put it down by calling it sickeningly sweet (yes, I looked up 'glurgy' too). With so much meanness and violence around these days, a little sweetness now and then isn't such a bad thing, I would say. Okay, okay, I know my own poems are too sweet, glurgier than yours, but that's me--I'm just happy and hopeful in the morning.
Ol' Man Keith, I can't believe you worked all the Jumble words and solution into that clever, brief, brief verse. Amazing, and especially since you ended it with "benediction."
Wilbur)! I just noticed that you described "upbeat" as "Misty style." Woohoo! Woohoo! You've just made my day! Thank you, thank you!
And then a sad thud, for me. I spoke German until I was ten, and only learned English playing with American kids on a ship when I came to the United States at the end of that year. Sadly, my French is terrible, and so I can't comment on your poem this morning, Wilbur, but I'm sure it's lovely.
Whew! I'm exhausted and it's not yet 10am her in California. What an incredibly busy poetic morning!
Misty, the French is from Jean LaFontaine. Here is background and translation. And I see it's a raven not a stork.
The Fox and the Raven
Or as someone once said. "Vanity is the cousin of stupidity "
WC
Thanks, Wilbur, for the reply and for the poems, both yours and LaFontaine's.
I like the use of "da face." You knew I would!
But, boy, you are really setting your guy up for a hard fall. Good job!
As for the classic verse, I couldn't translate it on my own. My French never got beyond Mrs. Fusselman's Jr. Hi intro. But I could sound it out, and that was good enough. Merci bien.
Misty ~ I think we need to be clear that "Glurgy" really only applies when there is a bid for a sentimental response that is not properly earned. Some occasions for sweet pains are warranted; others, especially when there is a conscious bid or engineering to gain an "Awww" reaction, are not. Some of yours are borderline;others are genuine.
Today's, for instance, works for me, partly because you end it on a "hands off" note.
Bunny can pursue her dreams, but we don't really know how she will fare. Retirement can be a bitch, as many of us discover.
~ OMK
Thanks, OMK, for suggesting I'm only "borderline" glurgy--I appreciate that.
But I'm not sure what my "hands off" ending is? And you're right about Bunny--we have no idea how her retirement will turn out. Hopefully not a "b----"--wait, what's the masculine term?
And that was the "hands-off" I meant. As the author, it was up to you to tell us how she did in her final years, or to remain--as you did--non-comittal.
I believe the correct term for a male is... exactly the same.
(The Brits use the "C" word.
Or just "punter" if he's not too narsty.)
~ OMK
Again, thanks, OMK--and Owen and Wilbur--great Jumble day, thanks to all of you.
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