| || toxin, eagle, method, trusty, ran out (of) "esteem".
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.
3 comments:
The eagle is held in high esteem
It hunts its prey and kills it clean.
The scorpion is frowned upon
Its toxin's victims can linger on.
Each method is a trusty means
To get the nourishment it needs.
It's not as if the mercy ran out
When predator modes were meted out.
Thank you, thank you, Owen. I had trouble getting one of the Jumble words and in the end got the first two words of the solution, but the third one didn't quite work. So I came to your poem for help--and there it was: the right third word--which helped me solve the Jumble. And your poem is clever and intriguing. The Jumble cartoon is also fun, with the posters on the wall, the water fountain, the three guys of different ages and races and hairdos and shirts and ties, and different expressions. Lots of fun--a nice way to start a Monday.
A real neat poem! I'm with Misty: it is very clever!
Sorry I wasn’t here yesterday. I often take Sundays off, and yesterday was a special day, with my 49ers whuppin’ the Packers to take the NFC trophy!
Thanks, Wilbur for offering a rhyming hint in my stead! A good one too.
If I had taken a shot I might have tried to render “grievances” with something like gray fences, even though that would require a fancy story to make it work.
Maybe something like:
Their cattle herd showed fear of anything that was hirsute! So the ranchers decided to drape hairy pelts over the fences that marked their ranges, especially the ones painted green to the south and grey to the north.
When a stray wind blew all the pelts from the northern barriers, they decided it was time to re-hair their gray fences.
And sorry for being late today. I was too tired last night to take an early look at the jumble.
But here’s my crack at today’s solution:
The search party now included a batch of psychics to help find the lost children, but the sheriff wasn’t sure how to give directions to his new posse of “seers.”
When they reached the edge of the forest, he yelled, “Okay everybody, just fan out and… uh, Dream!”
~ OMK
Post a Comment