More about accismus: the limericks

IMG_3548

What do these strange, new words mean?

And why have they evaded being seen?

Accismus is a lie

Give it a try

I desire no reward but esteem

 

I don’t know what to think of my   find

It’s a grief to us fragile of mind

We think we know all

Then we suffer our fall.

Still, it’s good to be bad, not unkind

 

I thought I could die now in peace

As on words I’d  enjoyed  a great feast

But like the end of line

Is so hard to define

Infinity seems quite near when it’s least.

 

In between any two words you choose

Another word can be found and bemuse.

Transcendent their state

They may   yet irritate

But without a little space, they confuse.

 

Some folk declare they need space

Avoid saying they hate their loves one’s face

But  words have no choice

As they speak with our voice

And when used ill they oddly debase.

Advertisements

About Kate Thwaite

I love writing , conversation, art, wild flowers, music and air.And books
This entry was posted in Thinkings and poems. Bookmark the permalink.