| || favor, bribe, nimble, shadow, beforehand.
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:
A real reach.
Right!
I think it has something to do with tennis. Right?
~ OMK
"Whether Before or Behind"
Between baksheesh and a pourboire,
many tourists are guilty of a social flaw.
There's but a shadow of difference between the two.
One is a tip, whether given as a favor, or "due."
The other's a bribe, a culturally approved sin,
a nimble exchange of cash, either to get you an "in"
or to buy preferred treatment from above.
Which is which depends,
often, my friends,
on the exquisite timing thereof.
~ OMK
OWEN! Just read your poem on the Corner. So glad to see it. So happy you're feeling up to writing.
"Rum Cake Special"
The restaurant did me a favor
by letting me savor the flavor
of a new dessert, so nimble
it should really become a symbol.
The rum cake had such a great vibe
my review required no bribe.
It was a pleasure to be able to tow
the eatery out of its shadow.
It was a pretty good place beforehand,
but my review made it even more grand.
I couldn't get the riddle-solution. I thought DEAF might be in it. To make it more difficul I transcribed a W instead of O from #4.
Then when OMK essentially provided the solution I didn't get it. Then, "Duh".
The conversation was of no help. The opposite. Then again I was riddle less yesterday too.
Now the four J's popped instantly.
WC
I love the way the Jumble words are all so skillfully hidden in your verse, ,Ol' Man Keith. Only I'm never quite sure where the solution is--but no problem. Still, a sophisticated delight, as always.
Misty ~ Usually my solution hint is in the title of my poem. I rarely spell it out. I may rhyme it, or Spooner it, but today--as with yesterday--I just point in its general direction.
Today I also wanted to use the title for another purpose, to point up the difference in timing between a bribe and a tip.
I like how you waited till halfway through to let on that your narrator is a food critic--and a very powerful one at that! Imagine having that power!
I could never do that. My sense of taste is far too subjective to trust it to compose an "objective" review. I mean that it varies greatly from day to day.
Each morning, for instance, I toast an English muffin, which is a real treat for my taste buds WHEN my mouth is just right. Sometimes everything about it tastes delicious--and provides deep umami to my mouth.
But there are days when the flavor is bland, and the balance of tastes seems off.
It is NOT the muffin's fault, but the standard variation in my mouth's mood.
I could never be a food critic.
~ OMK
Wilbur ~
I didn't get your comment about my providing you with the solution, not at first. I thought you were referring to the hint in the title of my poem.
Then I realized: you were talking about my FIRST posting, my comment to Sandy. Right?
Double "Duh"!
You are welcome.
~ OMK
Catching up on my Ivanhoe tale...
Monday, 12/14/20
Plank,Excel, Closet,Chrome;Spell checker
Tuesday 12/15/20
Removed temporarily
--------
[Athelstane goes on]
"There I found myself, bound tight nothing to eat but water and bread.
The Abbott and the funeral party were gone, allegedly to pray for the dead.
Only old chrome-dome, the sacristan, was left but he did me a favor.
He'd shared his wine and pasty beforehand which proved a lifesaver.
Plus under the spell of the wine he neglected to check the fetters
Of the cell door. And to my delight my chains were rusty. All the better
To aid my escape. I found the sacristan closeted with another,
a huge beetle-browed, broad-shouldered brother
of the grey-frock and cowl. Before he could hand me a blow with his stick
I nimbly stepped aside. As the Monk took flight, I gave the oaf a swift kick.
Unlocked the chains and with head cloaked I stumbled outside.
I found my own palfrey stabled and like a shadow of death I did ride.
I'd left the sacristan unharmed for the bribe of wine he'd offered,
Grabbed a plank of ham and got here to see the Abbott fattening his coffers.
And there my most excellent friends is the tale of my exaggerated demise.
A tale fit for troubadours to sing for the ages. I'm sure you'll surmise.
WC
OMK, I got the riddle-solution from the following:
"Whether Before or Behind". But I now see your tennis reference - a backhanded clue.
If it's not the loves of our youth Misty will provide tasty vittles. Mmmm.
WC
Good to know how Athelstane got away. Like your description of the "oaf". And I presume the sacristan was bald, not particularly smart.
Thanks For the installment, Wilbur
You're welcome Sandy, thanks for dropping in. The "oaf" is actually Friar Tuck. And the description is Scott. I liked it and copied it 😃 n.
Tomorrow,(I hope) Athelstane will find his audience has disappeared. Now the final big drama begins to unfold.
WC
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