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| || omega, wheat, minion, glitch, weighing on him.
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.
8 comments:
On me too. Heavily.
"Degas?"
The words in this Jumble are preying on me,
depressing and gloomy, they're weighing on me.
I'll leave omega to the end
since that was one I couldn't bend.
But, thankfully, then came the wheat
which I valued as a real treat.
Oh no, the next one was that minion
and there was nothing I could pin it on.
But at least glitch was a funny pitch
that fitted right into my niche.
So, I'm left with that testy omega.
For an answer, how about Degas?
If that works, I'll finish with glee,
Jumble no longer weighing on me.
I just realized that MANGO wasn't the first J-word today. I had scratched it off but went ahead and tried to use it in my poem posted FLN. I meant to repost here. Now I'll have to modify the poem and repost.
Here was my attempt at MANGO:
"Mont-Fichet's 'men' would 'go' to any lengths to avoid defeat"
Talk about going to any lengths to include a J
WC
Ok. Retry
The fate of his lovely Rebecca was weighing on his mind.
"There must be some glitch", thought Sir Brian, "to unbind
The shackles of this farce of a Templar trial."
As he pondered, the minions of the master were all the while
Gathering witnesses as one harvests the wheat
The alpha and omega? Go to any lengths to avoid defeat
WC
Ah, I see my comrades, Misty & Wilbur, wrestling today, especially with the ultimate test of--OMG!--the end of all being!
Dear Misty ~ I'll take Degas any day. We had one of his standing ballerinas at the museum where I worked, and ever since I met her I've been a devotee.
And Sir Wilbur, I appreciate the extra labor it took to undo the cleverness of your first "go" and set your record straight. The ratio of metaphors to word count in the retry is astounding, m'lord!
Here is my 'umble attempt. You'll see that in the bad old days the "field of honor" required an amount of detail often elided in Hollywood versions. The seconds to a duelist could find waiting on him to be a somewhat tedious matter...
"By all that's holy, sir, from Alpha to Omega,
you insult me, you treat me no better than a beggar!"
So spake Lord Hastings, declaring that he'd meet Captain Vaughn,
"West of St. Martin's, in the wheat field, at dawn."
And so he departed, leaving his minions to guarantee
the particulars of weapons, of caliber, and to see
that medical assistance be provided. Perhaps clergy as well
(the absence of which might raise hints of hell!).
The provisos are many: they must also arrange
the number of shots and timing of pacings, whether strange
observers might watch, and if newspaper men
should be forewarned and permitted to attend.
What else? Names and addresses of next of kin
should be recorded, it generally regarded as a sin
to leave them out, ignored and unaware.
A duel cannot be a slapdash affair!
Hastings was known through the borough of Greenwich
as a duelist unwilling to countenance a glitch.
His "meetings" were models of mayhem sans hitch.
~ OMK
Wow! Once again, amazing verses from our top poets, with suspenseful endings. Can't wait to see how that duel proceeds, Ol' Man Keith, and hope we learn of Rebecca's fate down the line, Wilbur.
Misty ~
I doubt we’ll see any further proceedings
from the good Lord Hastings, despite his fans’ pleadings.
Nothing more with this duel at any rate.
His seconds & the Captain’s stayed up late
as a crowd of duel-doggers gathered at the door.
But around two a.m. they reached article four—
the provision for widows & pensions for kids—
and the entire enterprise hit the skids.
They tried to move on, while outside the tavern
the lovers of duels grew madder & madder.
At last—it was around a quarter past five
after the lawyers had finally arrived
with additional points for which each made a speech—
that the negotiations finally reached
an impasse over taxes. All parties agreed
it was folly to duel; not worth it to bleed
for a trifling insult. And so, like the vast majority
of would-be duels, this too lacked authority
to actually be fought. Seconds hastened to Hastings
and the good Captain Vaughn to keep them from wasting
the extra hours of sleep thus gained on their behalf.
Meanwhile, the fans of a fight viewed it all as a gaffe
and, looking for someone to make do in a pinch,
chose the slow-moving lawyers the likeliest to lynch!
~ OMK
Woohoo! Woohoo! The saga continues and gets even more and more exciting, Ol' Man Keith! You've got me hooked!
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