This week was terrific fun playing with words. On Facebook, a few of us managed to speak in R’s until we were quite tickled (and at least I was laughing; if not everyone else ). We started out with rogue, and it snowballed (degenerated? generated?) from there. Here’s a little barely-a-poem to commemorate the festivities…
No, my friend,
more like Restoration Rogue,
a scandal if there ever was one.
That’s what happens when
you mix your R’s, go renegade.
Rogue. Resistance. Restoration. Renaissance. Rebel. Rascal. Racketeer. Rabble-rouser. Rowdy ruffian.
Why not relish the words,
like a recluse, eating riffraff
on a Monday afternoon
(and most likely up to no good)
Viva la revolucion
I say, wishing I could wag my tail
like someone’s pet Rottweiler
Ah, but the tail’s gone,
I notice. Crazy world of
Roger that. Even if
it isn’t vogue.
Black eyes like stone
make night burn empty
even around poetry.
That’s it. Poetry is a fine receptacle, for everything from the fun-loving to the contemplative. Thanks to all our Random Acts of Poetry participants…
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