FanStory.com - The poem with no nameby CD Richards
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A Potpourri of Poetic Curiosities
: The poem with no name by CD Richards


I've twankled in the sitting room.
I've twankled on my bed.
I've twankled morning, noon and night,
until I lost my head.

I've twankled in the garden,
while strolling down the path.
I've twankled while my aunty watched,
but never in the bath.

When life is mean, and I feel sad,
or lonely, hurt, or blue;
I'll grab my ukulele and
I'll twankle beside you.

I've found the key to happiness,
it's this, no word of lie—
twankling's fun, so go buy one,
and twankle 'til you die!
 

Author Notes
I have twankled in public on a number of occasions now, and have yet to be arrested. Mostly, my twankling has been applauded, though only as part of a group effort. I haven't yet been game to twankle solo in front of a crowd.

Today's word:

twankle (v.) to play idly on a musical instrument.

My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book.

Thanks for reading.

     

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