Monday, November 12, 2007
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Cool Verbs
plumb
interpolate
inculcate
assuage
salve
hold sway
prettify
abscond
inveigle
percolate
bemoan
bemuse
circumvent
circumnavigate
belch (pollution)
bask
corroborate
precipitate
forestall
foreswear
preempt
prognosticate
prophesy
stipulate
abhor
acquiesce
perambulate
reify
condone
deify
exemplify
indemnify
postulate
edify
castigate
defer
wail
proscribe
circumscribe
crater
cave
objectify
elicit
marginalize
evoke
cleave
cleft
interpolate
inculcate
assuage
salve
hold sway
prettify
abscond
inveigle
percolate
bemoan
bemuse
circumvent
circumnavigate
belch (pollution)
bask
corroborate
precipitate
forestall
foreswear
preempt
prognosticate
prophesy
stipulate
abhor
acquiesce
perambulate
reify
condone
deify
exemplify
indemnify
postulate
edify
castigate
defer
wail
proscribe
circumscribe
crater
cave
objectify
elicit
marginalize
evoke
cleave
cleft
Friday, November 2, 2007
On Aging
I walk the gardens of my days where rav'nous weeds are few
and even they are dying as I pass.
But neither do the flowers bloom as bright. Still, they smell as sweet
and sweeter and as strong. There's comfort in not being seen.
So sit with me awhile and hear my tale of summers past
and fragrance lingers with you when you leave.
I walk the forests of my years where empty branches line
the lower parts of trees, where brown ones tinkling, fall.
The green ones sit aloft on piney bough. Still, dead ones form
a bed so soft and safe. There's comfort in not being new.
So lay with me awhile and feel safe in autumn rain
and such a rest rejuvenates your soul.
I walk the canyons of my life where earthquakes' tremblings passed
and served to form the ridge and grassy hill,
their jagged edges distant and obscure. Still, the path is smooth
and easier to trod. There's wisdom gained in being worn.
So walk with me awhile and eye mountains' winter coat
and contemplate your place within the world.
and even they are dying as I pass.
But neither do the flowers bloom as bright. Still, they smell as sweet
and sweeter and as strong. There's comfort in not being seen.
So sit with me awhile and hear my tale of summers past
and fragrance lingers with you when you leave.
I walk the forests of my years where empty branches line
the lower parts of trees, where brown ones tinkling, fall.
The green ones sit aloft on piney bough. Still, dead ones form
a bed so soft and safe. There's comfort in not being new.
So lay with me awhile and feel safe in autumn rain
and such a rest rejuvenates your soul.
I walk the canyons of my life where earthquakes' tremblings passed
and served to form the ridge and grassy hill,
their jagged edges distant and obscure. Still, the path is smooth
and easier to trod. There's wisdom gained in being worn.
So walk with me awhile and eye mountains' winter coat
and contemplate your place within the world.
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