All hints are in the comments!

Friday, July 31, 2020

July 31, 2020

|| || agile, orbit, excite, soften, get a fix on it.
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.

7 comments:

Ol' Man Keith said...

Electrons are agile as they orbit their plumb.
Is it the music of the spheres
they hum and hear?
Or are their paths simply dumb?

When one electron excites another,
I imagine a howl,
a startled yowl
from the softened brother.

I wish I could burrow into an atom
to jet the mix of it,
fly through the tricks of it.
I'd gladly share my research datum.
~ OMK

Misty said...

"Thanks to a Colleague"

Dear Keith, I enjoyed your orbit
Of a Jumble with nothing morbid.
Your humor's so bright
It can't help but excite,
And your theme was so agile
It kept your jokes fragile.
And your colorful picks on it
Helped me get a fix on it.

Many thanks for getting our Friday Jumble blog off to a good start.

Ol' Man Keith said...

How nice to start
this SoCal crispy day
with a message from the heart.
To hear Misty say
my “humor’s so bright”
is reward enough
for the opus I took time to write
& scrunch in the rhymes thereof.
~ OMK

Misty said...

Keith, you deserve all the credit you can, for being such a poetic man.

Wilbur Charles said...

Sorry gang I'm falling behind. Here's my Thursday effort. Here were the J's:

Poise,Bevel,Melody,Spiral; Lies the problem

When the answer to the missive demanding surrender
Reached de Boeuf. "Execute the Saxon pair!" was his tender.
He then offered to have them shriven if clergy available.
Four hours only, and then they hang, was the timetable.

The result was Wamba donning the Robes of Friar Tuck.
The Friar's advice: Stay poised and spout Latin gibberish
In a melodius voice. Go forth Witless one, I wish you luck."
The jester proceeded to the castle with a look of beatific bliss.

Wamba in his robes and cassock ascended a spiraling stair
Past beveled walls to reach the Saxon's cell. "Here
Lies the problem, Master. If asked just mutter 'Pax vobiscum'.
Speak as little as possible and out the gate you'll come.

Misty said...

Wilbur, your poems always amaze me. You put such intricate stories together set in an archaic universe, and yet you build in Jumble words, and develop a complex and erudite language all the while you're telling your story. Thank you for this wonderful gift to our Jumble blog. I hope Sandy will have a chance to read your today's offering also.

Ol' Man Keith said...

A strong & complex entry today, Wilbur.
I'm glad you had the time to post it for us. We were watching & hoping.
Many thanks!
~ OMK