| oomph, yield, valley, viewed, lovey-dovey.The opening poem contains all the words (or variations of them) from today's Jumble.
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They met as children, grew to know love
There in their valley, with the daisy and dove.
But restlessness itches, there's a world to view,
They each bid farewell, to find lives anew.
He to the west, fortune and riches he sought.
He did well enough, but wealth yielded not a lot.
She to the east, to seek renown and fame.
Showed oomph, but won only modest acclaim.
The years passed, and like salmon to spawn
They returned to their valley, to kinfolk drawn.
Not quite winners nor losers in life's game.
Met by chance, and an ember fanned to a flame!
The past is but prologue for joys that transcend.
They again became lovers, a happy story end!
Not a hokey-pokey poem, nor hotsy-totsy, but a real chicken-dinner winner!
~ OMK
That is a charming poem and story, Owen. I would love to know if it was truly a happy ending. That is, was he wealthy enough to support them both, or did he find work/income in the valley? Was she satisfied to give up her oomphey career and settle down? Or maybe, I imagine, did she start a community theater? All sorts of possibilities.
Fun jumble. The clues were very straightforward, requiring only a few moments of thought at most. The solution was the same, being pretty obvious. I can't read the writing (?) under the archway on my phone and would really like to know what it says.
It is a fine poem, Owen, and timely in honor of St. Valentine.
May I submit, for the enjoyment of our Jumble colleagues, my favorite Valentine?
Please enjoy this, a poem I first encountered at age 16 when my then girlfriend wrote it out by hand as a dedication to a book she gave me--Shakespeare's Sonnet 73.
~ OMK
Keith was that a presage of your current moniker. Good ol' Will.
Sandy, you are getting so proficient at the Jumble game. I had problems with the two fives even though the sixes were easy .
In fact I can't find #1 in Owen's poem. And I'm not going to try to unravel it again .
WC
Sandy, I fear you're reading too much into a fairy tale. This is simply a composite of all the stories I've read thru my life of childhood sweethearts who re-meet in adulthood and marry.
No, Owen, I'm just fantasizing a continuation of the story. I have fun that way.
And fantasy is just one of the many ways we take a poet's work and run with it.
We are allowed. (Or else that sonnet is just a lovely poem about Autumn.)
WC ~
If it was a "presage," it was prophetic by all of 64 years,
~ OMK
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