As she lay dying, few took time to mourn;
their thoughts were focused on quite other things.
She gasped for breath, forgotten and forlorn,
and longed to feel the peace that death would bring.
The Earth, a hapless victim to man's greed,
was ravaged to the point of no return;
we took from her far in excess of need,
and used her up with no thought or concern.
But Mother Earth has been around a while,
as countless forms of life have come and gone;
for giving in has never been her style—
she steeled herself, and vowed to carry on.
To raccommode the balance, mankind died;
the mother shrugged, and took it in her stride.
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Author Notes
Today's word: raccommode (v.) to restore, to put back into place.
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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