Sometimes, A Word
is Christmas morning
dazzling you silly
with its tree-tinseled nuances
its ornamental nature
the piney greenness of it
30 dolls couldn’t compete
you fly down the stairs
bed haired and fuzzy slippered
coffee cup in one hand
thesaurus glued to the other
and there it is
beribboned and wiggling
mouth a slant of delight
onomatopoeic whimper
you nuzzle its connotations
rub its gentle iamb
then take it to the backyard
to that blank page of snow
and let it run wild
For all writers who search the perfect word
11 thoughts on "Sometimes, A Word"
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So much to love here: this word and it’s “beribboned and wiggling/mouth a slant of delight/onomatopoeic whimper…” I love the extended abstract becoming concrete
This is full of joy, mystery and action. You allow us to read between the lines, including “30 dolls couldn’t compete.” I love that you included two tools of a writer–coffee cup and thesaurus in such a whimsical scene- picture perfect.
Sylvia, this dazzles! I. Love. It. My only issue is that I’d probably forget the word by the time I got to the back door . . .
You do this poem correct…
Delightful! “Nuzzle its connotations” knocked my brain loose.
This poem sings!
love:
beribboned and wiggling
mouth a slant of delight
onomatopoeic whimper
What a delight! I identify, too.
Yes – getting that right word is crucial!
Awesome and beautiful!
What a delight.
Flow and mood of writers’ “search [for] the perfect word” is given voice here. Fresh, vivid imagery: that word with its “onomatopoeic whimper” is taken “to the backyard/to that blank page of snow/and let it run wild.”