| || twine, shiny, crayon, middle, hand-me-downs.
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.
13 comments:
Once there was a magpie, know as a collector.
To acquire a cute thing, even humans he would hector!
Every piece of twine he secreted in his nest
Was of his collection, the piece he loved the best!
Every thing that shiny was, he took it for his own.
He often tried to grab at hapless people's phones!
And bright neon colors, they held a fascination.
He had several crayons, to toddlers consternation!
When it came to stealing, he had no middle way.
Absconding with a new prize was the apex of his day.
Why was he so enthralled by what made others frown?
When he was a chick, his mother fed him hand-me-downs!
WELCOME BACK!
Good to see youOwen, and read you too,
With you in the saddle, I relinquish my pen;
these regular postings are a bit of a Whew!
It's a very good thing, to know when to say When.
We know your return needn't mean daily verse.
You remain free to come and to go.
A too-steady schedule can feel like a curse.
You show us all how to call a well-earned Whoa!
~ OMK
____________
PS. The chain-gang escapee heard terrible sounds,
the baying of canines, gawd-damn the hounds!
Taking liberties with one of the words...
[Rebecca was giving a play by play of the assault to the bedridden Ivanhoe]
"You hear the bugles and horns, dear Sir, the battle commences
The twine of the bows as arrows are unleashed on the defences
There's the Black Knight in shiny, sable armor
Right in the middle of the assault midst the clamor".
Hand to hand he battles and down goes Front De Boeuf
Oh the tumult of the battle is like waves on the surf
DeBracy and Sir Brian have broken the bridge over the moat
And hauled back Front De Boeuf, that craven cutthroat
******
WC
Owen, very, very glad to see you back, here and on the Corner.
What a thrilling Wednesday morning, to have you rejoin us with a terrific poem, Owen. I had gotten all the words, but not the solution, and there was your gift, giving us the whole thing.
Then we get two more delightful bits of poetry, with Wilbur's gallant Knight's tale, which is always a pleasure. And our heroic Ol'Man Keith, heaving a sigh of relief to get a bit of a break today, is still clearly hooked on poetry and so delivers a charming verse. Thank you, everybody, including you, Sandy, for checking in.
"Ode to our Poets"
Today no one can whine
With poems so sublime
That magic they en-twine.
Moods both sweet and briny,
Words both sharp and shiny.
The texture of smooth rayon,
The colors of a crayon.
The mystery of a riddle
With genius in the middle.
So to our poets, here's a crown,
And we swear, it's not a hand-me-down.
Owen, the three amigos et moi are excited to you back.
Craven was as close as I could get. Anybody think of Howard Cosell re. "Down goes Front de Boeuf!"
WC
I could never match Owen's art, so I won't try. But here's some free -- not blank -- verse.
I had a box of crayons,
Handed down by middle brother.
No longer shiny, but tied with twine.
Cherished until the stubs themselves were gone.
Woohoo! Sandy's a poet! Woohoo!
Hunh?
It’s not as in my post of yesterday.
Today the battle truly is a fray!
But just when Wilbur has us clutch our throats,
(and we’re set--heheh--to jot down juicy notes)
while Cuthroat pays his dues to Father Mars,
our poet masks the gore with f*%*! stars!
~ OMK
Sandy needn’t rhyme
She opts instead for freedom.
Welcome, any way.
~ OMK
I use to pen doggerel and only later ever tried blank verse. The latter is harder.
Tolkien had one where he used alliteration vs rhyme.
"There Theoden fell, Thengling mighty
To his high halls and green pastures, never returning
High Lord of the Host"
I had that memorized. It's titled "The Mounds of Mundberg". The aftermath of the Great Battle of Gondor.
That was written but not posters last night.
Just re-visited this page and read your final added posts, Wilbur.
Tolkien's bit is neat. I believe alliteration was the original mode of Anglo-Saxon poetry, not rhyme.
It was delivered in "waves," not precise metric beats, two waves per line. As we breathe.
My haiku to Sandy combines the usual English version of 5/7/5 syllables per line with the Japanese preference of 3/5/3 words. Neither is exactly how the Japanese do it, but I reckon the combination comes closer.
As you can guess, I like the discipline of form.
So-called "free verse" isn't really free. It needs more than just a negation of form to separate it from prose. I have been compiling a list of elements that are often found in it and may post them at some point. Maybe as "Guidelines for Hallmark Card Poets."
~ OMK
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