My husband has always loved puns and has honed his punster technique throughout our marriage. In case I’ve haven’t already made it clear, I’m also fascinated by words, their etymology, their meaning, the ways in which they complement each other, the whole mix, match and meld of words. As a couple, it’s apt to describe us as logodaedalists:  that is, we both play at words.

In the spirit of logodaedaly, I thought this to be a good day for lighthearted poetry. I freely admit these aren’t among my better poems. Both were written when I was much younger. Neither one is my favorite form, a sonnet; the first poem is free verse, the second was written in rhyming quatrains. Both pieces provide a window into what my days resembled then. (It was crazy, but oh, it was also good, a precious time in my life.)

Occupational-Hazards, occupations, occupational hazards, writing, mothering, poetic dreams, romantic themes, poetry, light verse, free verse
Poem: Occupational Hazards

Truthfully, the way things actually went, I was able to write some things … as evidenced by these two poems. But I remember wanting to do everything in my power to make sure my “first four books” (my kiddos) were loved and nurtured into mature masterpieces. My children took high precedence over any writing, poetry or prose.

Poetic-Lament, mothering, poetry, writing, dreams, reality, poetic lament, concentration, poems of substance, light verse, poem
Poem: Poetic Lament

Logodaedaly should never be confused with Greek mythology and the skilled craftsman Daedalus who fashioned wings for himself (and his son Icarus) so they could flee from imprisonment. (Icarus flew too close to the sun causing his wings made from feathers and wax to melt. He fell into the sea and died.)

Being the logodaedalist I am, I couldn’t help myself. Here’s a bonus poem, this time a limerick.

Dead-alus-Icarus, mythology, flying, limerick, light verse, poetry, poem
Poem: Dead-alus, Icarus

3 thoughts on “Logodaedaly

  1. Poetic Lament is my favorite. I remember those days well. I used to lock myself in the bedroom with instructions for Bret to keep the girls busy for just an hour. After 15 minutes little fingers would be waving at me under the door. Ten more minutes and they were beating on the door. Sigh. Now the quiet bugs me. Go figure!

    1. We tried that as well. I learned all too quickly that even the quiet on the other side of the door was too distracting! I’d sit there knowing it was TOO quiet so something must be amiss! Funny times we’ve both experienced.

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