Not Averse To The Verse

EasternMeadowlarkIt’s Friday, the end of another week. In our area, the snow is slowly disappearing and today’s temperature permitted me to venture outside wearing a light jacket (rather than my heavy winter coat).

Thankfully, Spring is in the air! Shortly after I rose this morning, I heard the Eastern Meadowlarks outside my bedroom window. They are always a delight and a welcome harbinger of warmer days. Their tune is distinct and melodic. Here’s a link for listening to the different sounds they make.

After yesterday’s depressing post about death, I thought I should at least reassure you:  I don’t really seek to drive people away from my blog, honestly. But I like to mix up the subjects of my posts a bit and throw in an occasional serious topic. Since all of us face death at some point in our lives, shouldn’t we give it a little attention?

So, change of pace … Light-hearted. We’re going light-hearted today.

In a post from last November, I mentioned that my Beloved and I play at words. We are both logodaedalists. It may in fact be a childish thing for us. We’re like a couple of infant babblers, checking out how the words sound, fit together and testing how to pun-ish each other with new and unusual meanings and combinations. Still, we have lots of fun in the process!

In that spirit of fun (childishness?), here’s my disclosure about the poem below. In case your sense of humor isn’t as dopey or oddball as mine, this poem below may well elicit your groans and sighs of impatience; if so, I’ve already mentioned the “dopey” word, so I trust you’ll be kindly forbearing. And who knows? Maybe you have a contribution illustrating how language is the voice of paradox? This is by no means an exhaustive list!

Logodaedaly, playing with words, somersault, spring fever, poetry, light verse, poem
Poem: Logodaedaly

3 thoughts on “Not Averse To The Verse

  1. That’s a fun one for sure! If I had a brain left, (or maybe I need a right brain or a brain transplant) I would join in the fun and offer up all manner of word play for you. But alas, I’m a blank slate, trying to write some poetry of my own that makes no sense, because I’m dense. At least I can rhyme, part of the time.

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