Please go to
𝕮𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖔 𝕿𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖓𝖊 - Mon. thru Sat. or
𝕮𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖔 𝕿𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖓𝖊 - Sunday
for today's Jumble, Printable or Interactive. Then return here to discuss it! This 𝕮.𝕿. site was available from 6:00 pm yesterday (Mountain Time).
Monday thru Saturday, but not Sunday, you will also find a Printable version at the A𝖗k𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖆𝖘 𝕯𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖈𝖗𝖆𝖙-𝕲𝖆𝖟𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊 , from about ~11 pm (MT) yesterday.
A color Interactive version is available from 3 am (MT) today at the 𝕮𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖔 𝕿𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖓𝖊 .
Image(s) 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 NOT required.
Since August 2022, Wordle brags and links to original jigsaw puzzles are also welcomed!
Do not explicitly reveal any of the actual Jumble or Wordle answer words until after closing time, but embedding them surreptitiously in comment sentences is encouraged.
14 comments:
Today’s Jumble haiku:
“Cream Scheme”
Invert an empty
creamy bowl; let curds dry. Can’t
abide a clean plate…
~ OMK
10 AUG ‘23
Par=4
Wordle 782 2/6
⬜⬜🟨⬜⬜
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩
____________
W782
Other words have rhymes a-plenty,
but not this one, not one in twenty.
Best to say there’s nothing here,
it’s vacant, absent, “….. .”
~ OMK
Check my poem.
The W-word is a J-word.
~ OMK
Orijinz:
a hard row to hoe
A plow is the tool for breaking a row
Of clods, to be ready when time to sow.
But seeds that are sprouting
Need more care for their outing.
Doing it by hand makes a hard row to hoe.
To Meditate Truly, your mind must be M. T.
No incursions from the day, just M. T.
Not full of junk
That's mostly bunk.
To get Most Totally full, must start M. T.!
Wordle 782 4/6
😶😶😶😶👁️🗨️
🗑️😶😶😶👁️🗨️
🗑️👁️🗨️😶😶😶
🗑️🗑️🗑️🗑️🗑️
Empty windows line the dusty street.
Exploring ghost towns can be neat!
Its time had come, and then had passed.
Now only its ghost remember the past.
Here abide the hopes that flowed
Of finding nearby another mother lode.
Here lived men who followed dreams,
Some panning gold in rushing streams.
Above, the creamy clouds float by,
A world inverted up in the sky.
Could they have mined those misty lands
What wondrous ores would come to hand!
The town grew from that rustic team.
'Twas once, and now again, a dream.
A fine poem, Owen, tracing some facets of a ghost town, leading up to a marvelous final couplet!
I like the rhythm & rhymes of your orijinz piece, but am sorry I don’t understand the challenge. I did the fill in .56, but you give it to us in your verse’s first line.
~ OMK
I remember those glass milk bottles.
Dream Time
Skim off the creamy top for coffee,
Invert and get 2% for tea.
When I heard the team pulling the cab,
I’d put out the empties for the milkman to grab.
How interesting that the W is a J word today.
I love your W poem Owen.
OMK and I took the J words to the food aisle (with curds left over!). Owen gives us a nostalgic view of shattered dreams and the ghost town of memories that is the only reminder now. Beautiful imagery (and idea) of those creamy clouds and the “ore” that might be mined there. Sometimes those “pie-in-the-sky” dreams come to fruition, but often they don’t.
“ Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for?” Robert Browning
"Creamy Creation"
The empty closet hurt her pride
but Beth would by the rules abide.
The rules against buying she would invert
by designing a new shirt along with a skirt.
For help she consulted her sewing team
and their ideas stirred up a new dream.
In the end, Beth sewed herself a new dress,
and it was creamy in color, her friends did confess.
At the sewing contest Beth's dress won a prize
which made her creative spirit rise.
Wow! Misty gives us a creamy coloured dress. I love how you took the J words and created Beth’s winning dress.
It’s a mighty good thing for your Beth, Misty, that she turned out to be a prize-winning seamstress, since the “rules” apparently wouldn’t let her buy her own clothes.
Maybe she lived in some extremist version of an Amish-type cult that looked on store-bought garments as too modern a concept.
(As if there were no stores for ladies in the past!)
Anyway, it is a good thing her team could fashion a skirt & shirt to her design—and to her liking.
Will they be allowed to make wearable items for themselves? Must they each design their own?
CanadianEh! ~ I too recall the glass bottles & the milkman. Our milkman drove a truck, but we did have a horse-drawn cart for the iceman.
You were much more expert in the different fat contents of your bottles. We just held the lid tight and shook the bottle for an even distribution.
For ice, we had a placard to put in a front window when we needed a fresh block. As the iceman lugged the supersized cube to our icebox, we kids would run around to the back of his wagon to grab big chips of ice to suck on!
The horse didn’t care. (Less weight?)
~ OMK
Ol' Man Keith, sorry I couldn't come up with a Wordle rhyme this morning: 'dear, fear, revere, severe', though my favorite would have been 'nothing to cheer'. And thank you for your delightful response to my verse. I grew up in Lancaster, PA (my brother still lives there), so I may have had Amish concerns about making clothing. If they can't use a sewing machine, how on earth do they produce their clothing? Never thought to ask.
Owen, gardening is really tough. But once the flowers bloom, it's incredibly rewarding. We have lots of blooms around the patio and the house, and the blooms attract monarch butterflies who love sitting on the orange blossoms that are exactly the same color they are. A real treat--both for them, and for us.
CanadianEh!, you're right: I haven't seen milk in a bottle for some years now--all shows up in a cardboard carton. Love your Robert Browning quote.
Hi, Wilbur, hope we see you tomorrow!
Misty ~ You really must keep in mind that the sought-after word need not rhyme with the one immediately before the final line. You were trying to rhyme with “here,” but why do you think I spent time with “a-plenty” & “twenty”?
And the message of the poem pointed to the fact that there are hardly any true rhymes with the W-word, not something you can say about “here”!
Sometimes it helps to blend the last two lines into one long line—to see where it is pointing.
~ OMK
Post a Comment