Words and Music
I like words that sizzle. I like words that pop.
When it comes to words I find that I can never stop.
Words that bubble are a gas. They float like a balloon.
Some rat-a-tat like snare drums. Others hum like a bassoon.
Onomatopoeia makes a lyric rich.
It hums along the melody, itching every itch.
The clanging of the cymbals, the clinking of a bell
assure us that the verbs they’re given suit them very well.
for dVerse Poets
Image by Simon Ormsby on Unsplash
Unruly Words
This poem wants to dangle or take a giant leap.
I can hear it whirring as it wakens me from sleep.
I think that it’s been restlessly dancing in my dreams,
clicking on its castanets and bursting at its seams.
It may want to be a song, and thus the castanets.
Let’s hope this is the noisiest that this poem gets!
I like my poems whimsical and gentle like a sneeze.
Instead of words that storm and fuss, I prefer a breeze.
I grant that poetry has stirred others to their fate,
but poems that are too preachy tend to irritate.
Please talk to me in gentle words that put me at my ease,
for in this angry world it’s harder to find words that please.
For The Sunday Whirl the prompt words are: clicking whimsical leap poetry songs be whirring dangling fates talk grant storm (Image from a free image generator–couldn’t resist, but I promise not to get carried away with this!)
You must wonder why after so many posts on Annie, I have suddenly not mentioned her at all. Thanks to Forgottenman, you probably already know that she passed away yesterday and I really appreciate all who have expressed sympathy for Annie’s death. Later I would like to do some further posts revealing her last adventures, but I’m not ready right now to do so.
R.I.P. Sweet Annie.
For the first 21 years I lived here, I always had a producing papaya tree. When I knew one was within two years of its life span, I would plant another and by the time the last one was no more, the next one would be producing fruit. This is now the only papaya tree left, and it has been two years in producing fuit, but it is very strange fruit indeed as instead of growing in a clump at the top, the papayas grow at the end of very long cordlike stems that hang down a few feet from the stem. Pasiano told me today that this is a male tree and that the fruit is inedible, but my next door neighbor, who I gave a tree to from the same seed that grew this one, says their tree is growing fruit in the same manner and revealed that they are hermaphrodite trees! I Googled the term and this is what I learned:
Papayas come in three sexual varieties: male, female and hermaphrodite. The hermaphrodite produces the flavorful fruit that is sold commercially.
The questions this week were provided by Jim Adams. Thanks, Jim!
1. Rumpelstiltskin spun straw into gold in exchange for what? He would exchange for only two things: bitcoin or newly pressed stilt covers.
2. What did humans do before the bobbin was invented? Called ahead for appointments.
3. What is the difference between knitting and crocheting? a missing knit and an added croche.
4. What does a drop spindle do? Creates a mist to cool off crowds in a heat wave.
5. What does a painted pony have to do with a spinning wheel? They are both parts of a carousel.
6. If you stick a needle in your eye, does that show sincerity? No. It shows stupidity.
7. What was Barthélemy Thimonnier known for? The invention of a wallet one straps to one’s inner thigh to protect against pickpockets.
8. What happened in the Golden Age of sewing? Thread price futures soared.
9. What breed of sheep makes the best wool? The ones who bring in the best return financially are Polypay sheep. (A real breed.)
10. What happens when the cotton field gets rotten? Wool prices soar.
For Fibbing Friday
This is okcForgottenMan again. Judy & I have been engaging on Skype messaging for much of the day, and she is still hurting bad. But she has been cheered by your comments. Her remaining canine critters seem to know what happened, and they have been uncharacteristically subdued, but sticking close by. Then Judy at her computer clicked on the audio of a song she wrote that was performed by a friend. That song is called “I Really Want A Puppy”, the title of an upcoming book Judy is working on. She’s not ready to release the song at large yet, but I listened (again), and her dogs heard it.
Judy: Both dogs have been so quiet and sad and just lying quietly by my side.. But, I just tested the QR code on the cover of my new book and it started playing Becky singing “I Really Want a Puppy” and they jerked up and came running over to me and both licked my neck and then they started playing with each other for the first time since Annie’s accident. Amazing. This is the first thing that has lifted my spirits all day long. Thanks, Becky!
Like y’all, I only knew Annie through Judy’s photos and words. But tonight I found that Judy made and posted a video of Annie playing with a chew toy a couple days ago. Seeing Annie in motion like that finally made her very real to me. (Welling up just writing that!)
Judy just previewed this post and notes: That’s the toy I buried her with. R.I.P. sweet Annie, my dear.
Again, hug your critters if you have them, dear readers!
This is okcForgottenMan posting on Judy’s behalf.
Judy/Remi sent me this Skype message a little over 5 hours ago:
I took Morrie in to the vet and when I got home, Yolanda met me at the door in tears. Annie and Zoe and Coco were wrestling and Annie fell into the hot tub which Pasiano had just put scalding hot water into and although Yolanda pulled her out and got a bad bite on the finger, Annie didn’t survive. When I try to talk on the phone about this, I hyperventilate and can’t talk. I am just heartbroken and feel so guilty.
I just received another message:
We are all in bed together [remaining three dogs]. Just too hot outside [to lie in the hammock]. They are so quiet and not playing. Zoe started to slink away when she saw me, like she felt guilty. Poor baby.
This tragedy is hitting her (and her housekeeper) extremely hard! So it may be awhile before she feels up to posting anything here. Hug your critters if you have them, dear readers.
Guess who discovered the equipale I hid in the guest room? If you don’t know why I hid it and why Annie was looking for it, go HERE.
Click on Photos to Enlarge.
Welcome to “The Numbers Game #23” Today’s number is 144. To play along, go to your photos file and type that number into the search bar. Then post a selection of the photos you find under that number and include a link to your blog in my Numbers Game blog of the day. If instead of numbers, you have changed the identifiers of all your photos into words, pick a word or words to use instead, and show us a variety of photos that contain that word in the title.
This prompt will repeat each Monday with a new number. If you want to play along, please put a link to your blog in comments below.
I mentioned in an earlier post that we are supposed to have another month of temps getting up to 115 degrees Fahrenheit (46 Celsius) here in Mexico. We all want it to cool off, but this is a bit too much of a solution.
