| || fruit, usher, overdo, canary, "trans-furred".
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.
11 comments:
Sylvester had a plot that he knew would get him Tweety.
First hide Granny's glasses, who thought him such a sweetie.
Vacuum a few shed feathers from the canary cage,
And get a piece of yellow fruit, to complete the stage!
Place the lemon on the floor, with some feathers round.
Open the cage door, grab the bird 'fore he could sound.
Shut him in a basket, then usher Granny to the scene,
Moaning Tweety fell from his cage and conked his bean!
Below the open cage door, Granny found the birdy "body".
Made plans for Tweety's funeral, despite being sobby.
Rigor mortis had set in, the lemon body was quite rigid.
(It had been in the cooler, and so was even frigid!)
Not to overdo things, find something simple for a casket,
Like what Sylvester's sitting on, a little lidded basket!
But when Granny went to transfer the body, a surprise!
Up popped Tweety, "Blame dat Puddy Tat fur my demise!"
Among my very favorite cartoons as a kid, Tweety & Sylvester stood in the top rank. Thanks, Owen, for reviving the spirit of the old rivalry. The lemon gag is exactly the sort of far fetched stunt Sylvester might pull. Bravissimo!
Today's solution yields a perfect Spoonerism that must beg our collective pardon for its questionable taste. But if a cat can be blamed for a perfectly natural shedding of its coat, we mustn't be too harsh if Frances, an excitable follower of these Jumble cartoons, fails to reach a privy in time to deposit her Fran's turd in the proper receptacle.
Sorry...
~ OMK
I had that second word and the five remaining letters but could make nothing of TSNAR. I had to work at three of the J's so I went to the xword.
OMK's gloss got me back on the right track. Speaking of... What a marvelous retake of the tweetie / puddy-tat wars.
Having three conures I can't imagine having a cat around. There's a pair that skulk around and may have been the culprits that absconded with a few that went missing.
WC
Owen, I loved all your poems this morning, though at first I was saddened on this one by the loss of Tweety until Voila! he was resurrected! Yay!
Had trouble with the fourth Jumble item, and that gave me trouble with getting the solution, but when I got it, I loved it! Made perfect sense for the cute cartoon with the sweet picture of the woman and her kitty on the wall. And Ol'Man Keith, your pun was a delight, as always. Have a good day, everybody, and I hope Sandyanon checks in with us.
The fruits of his reckless riddling would usher in
Fire and brimstone on the Laketown men.
He'd just had to overdo it. He'd got away
So Smaug transferred his rage to they
Who'd helped the Hobbit. What would betoke
Bard and his kin and the kindly townfolk.
He thought of young Tommy and sister Mary
His teddy bear and her beloved pet canary.
I can easily imagine a staged reading of your epic multi-part poem, Wilbur. How would you cast the readers for Smaug, Bilbo, et al.? Tenor voice? bass?
How about their "looks"?
Tall, short, portly, overbearing, meek? Dark, fair, in-between?
Gender?
~ OMK
Sorry, folks, but I have been staring too long at the last line of my day's contribution, and I must offer a revision.
I know my prosaic bit of Spooneristic profanity doesn't rise to the level of true literature, but I still feel an author's responsibility not to abandon it in an unfinished condition. I knew all along something was missing from that last line. Here is my humble attempt to complete it.
"... in time to deposit her very own catharsis-driven surprise, Fran’s turd, in the proper receptacle."
There. I feel ever so much better.
~ OMK
OMK, the saga of Bilbo is greatly enhanced by reading aloud. I just read several days to Phillip, my son(an Earther).
I'd say Dumbledore can narrate, Harry Potter can play Bilbo and SNAPE* can be the dragon.
Everytime I return here I start from the beginning and read Owen's tale of Tweety. What a great story covering the four words.
WC
Woohoo! A great Owen poem followed by a great Wilbur poem, and a double gloss by Ol'Man Keith--Fridays don't get any better than this. (Well, having Sandyanon check in would have been nice, and I think it's time for Fran to flush).
Awesome! No words. You always go one step beyond.
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