L
Laager
Here's a handy thing to know
If in a caravan you go
And suddenly a battle must be fought
Arrange your transport in a square
And I purport you fight from there
Inside a laager or a wagon-fort!
Labile
Bear with me a sec and I’ll
Tell you all about “Labile”
Referring to unstable emotions
Specifically of someone who’s
Constantly changing their mood
Up and down like waves upon the ocean
For example you might see
A person who might seem happy
Then suddenly they snap and become sad
Then just as quickly they might be
Mad, then sad then happily
Telling you that now they feel glad!
When faced with someone in this state
You can confidently state
That a person like this is labile
But, probably don’t mention it
To them or they might have a fit
Proving that their feelings are fragile!
Labored
If I walk from here to there
And then from there to anywhere
It won't take long before you realize
By the signs of my exertion
I'm not fond of the excursion
And that I'm not too keen on exercise.
Labored I would look to you
Wet with sweat and worn out too
Breathing labored breaths from the attempt
All because I'm not the sort
To leave my couch for any sport
Believing from such things myself exempt!
And if I told you something like
A joke that took me half the night
Because I made it unduly complex
Then I've told a labored tale
Strenuous in its detail
Leaving me embarrassingly vexed.
LIFE
When I went to the Duck Store
To buy a duck for me I saw
Two ducks in a cage in front of me,
One was moving, one was still,
I watched it sitting there until
I realized it lacked the quality
That separates creatures that work
From other ones that are inert
In other words it had no life inside,
Therefore making this duck dead;
I bought the other one instead,
And took it in my car for a joy ride.
And as we went with some remorse
We pondered the principle force
Of life that sets the living far apart
From things that are inanimate
And have so reached the ultimate
State of having no life to impart -
No heart pumping in the chest,
No sleeping even though they rest,
No food being digested in the gut,
No more blinking for the eye,
No flinch for any stimuli,
The drive to procreate completely shut!
Unlike me and my new duck
Who seemed for the time being stuck
In the sequence of living events,
Yet looking forward to getting home
And so enjoying the duck I own,
Whilst my tummy growled without relent...
It seemed more proof of life had come
To me because my hungry tum
Was telling me to quickly have a feed,
So my little duck and I
Eager not starve and die
Drove home with alacrity and speed!
And as we hurtled through the street
Dreaming of what we could eat
My new duck friend read to me from a book
Which was a biography
Apparently the life story
Of a famous fowl entitled, "Chook",
Who was famous for thinking
About life after living
And adamant that she'd become a ghost
In the chicken afterlife
Free of common chicken strife
After she wound up on someone's toast!
Making me grateful I guess
To be alive although depressed
That one day I would breathe my final breath
So I thought I'd make the most
Of life before I was a ghost
And enjoy my time from birth to death!
Which made me ponder about now
This time of life I'm in and how
I could make the present worth my time,
Should I share some of my food
With this little quacking dude
Or share him on a plate with friends of mine?
But that would be a ghastly crime
To serve up this new friend of mine
To carve his meaty goodness with a knife...
Surely it would be a sin
And with the law I would be in
Trouble and be locked away for life?
Surely I'd be better fed
To eat a vegetable instead
And live a life of peaceful harmony
With the creatures of the earth
Respecting then the living's worth
And not make plans to have them for my tea?
Why should I consider my
Life to be worth more, should I
Have the right to eat an animal?
Shouldn't I respect the course
And life of this ideal force
And stand for this ethical principle?
But my duck put down his book
And I could tell from his scared look
That he knew the thoughts I entertained.
He said, "There is no life to our
Friendship and I think somehow
I'm less a friend and have become fair game?"
His words cut through me like a knife
They had exactly caught the life
Of the thing imagined in my head
Almost like a photograph
A still life and a polygraph
Revealing that I dreamed the duck was dead!
"Look I said you've done your dash
But now I see you by a mashed
Potato and maybe a plate of peas,
Your life is spent and up you see
Your more useful being dead in me!"
But my argument did not appease.
Instead he showed great resistance
To the idea his existence
And period of life had reached its end,
With tear drops dripping from his eye
He quacked a most tormented cry
And said, "I thought that you and I were friends!"
And then my car let out a groan
And with a life all of its own
Swerved beyond my own ability
To control its reckless wheels
I found myself begin to squeal
Over its new lifelike quality...
Then a voice from in the car
Said, "you won't get very far
If your intent is to eat up that bird!
For the lives of things that fly
And pass their time up in the sky
Are mine!" It was the weirdest thing I'd heard!
Then the life of my shocked brain
Began to stir and whirr again
As I had the start of an idea,
I plucked from the ignition my
Keys to make the car to die
The engine stopped but quickly to my fear
The car did not so quickly stop
But kept on going quite a lot
Threatening the life upon the road,
Anything that shared the road
Was now a threatening deathening load
Of danger putting us in panic mode!
If traffic was a party then
We were the life of it my friend
The duck and I inside the haunted car,
It was a rush and certainly
A chance for me to clearly see
My life so far projected on the tar...
But just like that and quite abrupt
My car was struck by a great truck
And suddenly I left my life behind
And as for that ungrateful duck
He caught a lift upon that truck
Whose driver was the veggie eating kind.
And just when I was pondering
About my life and its meaning
I found myself facing another blow,
For I found myself before
My maker and could not ignore
My judgement day had come and said, "Uh oh!"
Lithium
I think it was when I was five
When mum and I went for a drive
To the shops to buy something for tea,
As was normal for me then
I passed the time with pad and pen
Doodling and scribbling expertly...
I must have been thinking out loud
For randomly I had endowed
The paper with some random letters I
Had learned in school the week just gone
Writing them so very wrong
But speaking loudly L followed by I
To which my mum said, "What's that son?
You want to know another one?
Goodness but you are so curious!
L and I can only be
For lithium that has but three
Protons in its atom's nucleus!
"The word for this soft element
Comes from those great eloquent
People that we call the Ancient Greeks..."
And despite my morbid groan
She said, "Lithos is Greek for stone..."
Why oh why was my mum such a geek?
"And did you know that L and I
Is one of the alkali
Metal groups found in the elements?"
"No I did not know that mum,
But can we speak of something fun?"
I asked but she shared not my sentiments...
"It is the lightest metal too,
And not that dense my son, it's true"
I was trapped inside a vehicle..
"...Being alkali it's flammable,
By that I mean it's burnable..."
I wondered if escape was feasible!
"And lithium when cut open,
So I've heard it being spoken,
Is quite a shiny metal to behold...
But when it touches the moist air
The metal loses quick its flare
From silver gray, to black or so I'm told..."
I whispered there a silent prayer
"Please help me get out of here!"
As "...lithium-6 deuteride..." she said,
"Serves well as a fusion fuel..'
I could almost see her drool,
"...In thermonuclear weapons of dread!"
And although that part was cool
I felt like I was back in school
When she told me of its applications
Like heat resistant glass and things
Like lubricants so things don't cling
"And batteries..." she said with some elation.
And captive to my mum's discourse
I sat there feeling some remorse
Over ever speaking L and I
I wondered if there was a way
That I could feel another way
For I was quite sure that I could cry...
And as if she read my thought
My mother went on to report
That lithium could change the way you feel
I pondered then perhaps I should
Find out if someone my age could
Use it to survive my mother's spiels!
Love
I walked into the kitchen where
A cake awaited me in there
Freshly baked and dripping chocolate,
It was love at the first bite
I could not say I only liked
It, no indeed I loved it every bit!
That's not to say That I felt strong
Affection like what does belong
To the love a mother feels for her
Children or perhaps brother,
Sister or maybe Father
No the love I felt was of another...
Kind of love, an attraction
Though not the kind of affection
Based on any sexuality!
Let me make it very clear
That kind of love was no where near
The kitchen or found anywhere in me!
Nevertheless less I loved it so
And gave another piece a go
Making noises of such adulation
"Mm mm" I said, that kind of thing,
I loved it so much I could sing
About the baker in warm admiration!
I made a mental note that I
Must find out who made it so I
Could give to them my expression of love,
An assurance of the kind
I would eat any cake I find
If from them before me it was shoved!
And as I thought these tingly thoughts
My warm attachment quickly brought
Another piece to me in one smooth motion,
My grand enthusiasm,
I share without sarcasm,
Was a love that equalled strong devotion!
This cake,oh my, this mighty cake
Was so nice I could not fake
That I had not become hooked and attached,
It was now the object that
Defined all cakes, the grand format
That all cakes from now on must indeed match!
It was about then that my
Love called me up and said hi
My darling wife who'd gone out for the day
She said, "Hi Love." I said, "Hi Dear."
Then she said, "Do not go near
The cake I made for my mother's birthday!"
I gulped and said, "Of course not love"
Then hung up saying, "heavens above!"
I'd failed at the other noble love,
The kind that is selfless and true
That puts another before you
And some say comes from the good Lord above!
Or at the very least the kind
Of brotherly concern for thine
Fellow man or in my special case
The kind of sacrificial thought
That a loving husband aught
To have thus putting his wife in first place!
It was then that I became
A man of faith and loved again
The God whom I hoped would help to save me
From the wrath of my sweet wife
Who vowed to love me for my life
Which was sure to end soon and quickly!
But alas the score was "love"
(As in tennis) for from above
A Father's admonition came to me
And said, "What kind of love would I
Be showing you if from the sky
I let you off the hook so easily?"
So because I loved my wife
(Or perhaps I loved my life)
I baked and baked and baked and baked and baked...
Until I could replace the thing
And by the end of it could bring
Myself to admitting that I hate cake!
Lucre
Whether we are great or small
Lucre is a thing we all
Should avoid most oft and avidly,
It is the profit, one might say,
That's made in a dishonest way,
Put simply it is grubby filthy money!
Click HERE to search The Vocabuverse by Letter
Laager
Here's a handy thing to know
If in a caravan you go
And suddenly a battle must be fought
Arrange your transport in a square
And I purport you fight from there
Inside a laager or a wagon-fort!
Labile
Bear with me a sec and I’ll
Tell you all about “Labile”
Referring to unstable emotions
Specifically of someone who’s
Constantly changing their mood
Up and down like waves upon the ocean
For example you might see
A person who might seem happy
Then suddenly they snap and become sad
Then just as quickly they might be
Mad, then sad then happily
Telling you that now they feel glad!
When faced with someone in this state
You can confidently state
That a person like this is labile
But, probably don’t mention it
To them or they might have a fit
Proving that their feelings are fragile!
Labored
If I walk from here to there
And then from there to anywhere
It won't take long before you realize
By the signs of my exertion
I'm not fond of the excursion
And that I'm not too keen on exercise.
Labored I would look to you
Wet with sweat and worn out too
Breathing labored breaths from the attempt
All because I'm not the sort
To leave my couch for any sport
Believing from such things myself exempt!
And if I told you something like
A joke that took me half the night
Because I made it unduly complex
Then I've told a labored tale
Strenuous in its detail
Leaving me embarrassingly vexed.
LIFE
When I went to the Duck Store
To buy a duck for me I saw
Two ducks in a cage in front of me,
One was moving, one was still,
I watched it sitting there until
I realized it lacked the quality
That separates creatures that work
From other ones that are inert
In other words it had no life inside,
Therefore making this duck dead;
I bought the other one instead,
And took it in my car for a joy ride.
And as we went with some remorse
We pondered the principle force
Of life that sets the living far apart
From things that are inanimate
And have so reached the ultimate
State of having no life to impart -
No heart pumping in the chest,
No sleeping even though they rest,
No food being digested in the gut,
No more blinking for the eye,
No flinch for any stimuli,
The drive to procreate completely shut!
Unlike me and my new duck
Who seemed for the time being stuck
In the sequence of living events,
Yet looking forward to getting home
And so enjoying the duck I own,
Whilst my tummy growled without relent...
It seemed more proof of life had come
To me because my hungry tum
Was telling me to quickly have a feed,
So my little duck and I
Eager not starve and die
Drove home with alacrity and speed!
And as we hurtled through the street
Dreaming of what we could eat
My new duck friend read to me from a book
Which was a biography
Apparently the life story
Of a famous fowl entitled, "Chook",
Who was famous for thinking
About life after living
And adamant that she'd become a ghost
In the chicken afterlife
Free of common chicken strife
After she wound up on someone's toast!
Making me grateful I guess
To be alive although depressed
That one day I would breathe my final breath
So I thought I'd make the most
Of life before I was a ghost
And enjoy my time from birth to death!
Which made me ponder about now
This time of life I'm in and how
I could make the present worth my time,
Should I share some of my food
With this little quacking dude
Or share him on a plate with friends of mine?
But that would be a ghastly crime
To serve up this new friend of mine
To carve his meaty goodness with a knife...
Surely it would be a sin
And with the law I would be in
Trouble and be locked away for life?
Surely I'd be better fed
To eat a vegetable instead
And live a life of peaceful harmony
With the creatures of the earth
Respecting then the living's worth
And not make plans to have them for my tea?
Why should I consider my
Life to be worth more, should I
Have the right to eat an animal?
Shouldn't I respect the course
And life of this ideal force
And stand for this ethical principle?
But my duck put down his book
And I could tell from his scared look
That he knew the thoughts I entertained.
He said, "There is no life to our
Friendship and I think somehow
I'm less a friend and have become fair game?"
His words cut through me like a knife
They had exactly caught the life
Of the thing imagined in my head
Almost like a photograph
A still life and a polygraph
Revealing that I dreamed the duck was dead!
"Look I said you've done your dash
But now I see you by a mashed
Potato and maybe a plate of peas,
Your life is spent and up you see
Your more useful being dead in me!"
But my argument did not appease.
Instead he showed great resistance
To the idea his existence
And period of life had reached its end,
With tear drops dripping from his eye
He quacked a most tormented cry
And said, "I thought that you and I were friends!"
And then my car let out a groan
And with a life all of its own
Swerved beyond my own ability
To control its reckless wheels
I found myself begin to squeal
Over its new lifelike quality...
Then a voice from in the car
Said, "you won't get very far
If your intent is to eat up that bird!
For the lives of things that fly
And pass their time up in the sky
Are mine!" It was the weirdest thing I'd heard!
Then the life of my shocked brain
Began to stir and whirr again
As I had the start of an idea,
I plucked from the ignition my
Keys to make the car to die
The engine stopped but quickly to my fear
The car did not so quickly stop
But kept on going quite a lot
Threatening the life upon the road,
Anything that shared the road
Was now a threatening deathening load
Of danger putting us in panic mode!
If traffic was a party then
We were the life of it my friend
The duck and I inside the haunted car,
It was a rush and certainly
A chance for me to clearly see
My life so far projected on the tar...
But just like that and quite abrupt
My car was struck by a great truck
And suddenly I left my life behind
And as for that ungrateful duck
He caught a lift upon that truck
Whose driver was the veggie eating kind.
And just when I was pondering
About my life and its meaning
I found myself facing another blow,
For I found myself before
My maker and could not ignore
My judgement day had come and said, "Uh oh!"
Lithium
I think it was when I was five
When mum and I went for a drive
To the shops to buy something for tea,
As was normal for me then
I passed the time with pad and pen
Doodling and scribbling expertly...
I must have been thinking out loud
For randomly I had endowed
The paper with some random letters I
Had learned in school the week just gone
Writing them so very wrong
But speaking loudly L followed by I
To which my mum said, "What's that son?
You want to know another one?
Goodness but you are so curious!
L and I can only be
For lithium that has but three
Protons in its atom's nucleus!
"The word for this soft element
Comes from those great eloquent
People that we call the Ancient Greeks..."
And despite my morbid groan
She said, "Lithos is Greek for stone..."
Why oh why was my mum such a geek?
"And did you know that L and I
Is one of the alkali
Metal groups found in the elements?"
"No I did not know that mum,
But can we speak of something fun?"
I asked but she shared not my sentiments...
"It is the lightest metal too,
And not that dense my son, it's true"
I was trapped inside a vehicle..
"...Being alkali it's flammable,
By that I mean it's burnable..."
I wondered if escape was feasible!
"And lithium when cut open,
So I've heard it being spoken,
Is quite a shiny metal to behold...
But when it touches the moist air
The metal loses quick its flare
From silver gray, to black or so I'm told..."
I whispered there a silent prayer
"Please help me get out of here!"
As "...lithium-6 deuteride..." she said,
"Serves well as a fusion fuel..'
I could almost see her drool,
"...In thermonuclear weapons of dread!"
And although that part was cool
I felt like I was back in school
When she told me of its applications
Like heat resistant glass and things
Like lubricants so things don't cling
"And batteries..." she said with some elation.
And captive to my mum's discourse
I sat there feeling some remorse
Over ever speaking L and I
I wondered if there was a way
That I could feel another way
For I was quite sure that I could cry...
And as if she read my thought
My mother went on to report
That lithium could change the way you feel
I pondered then perhaps I should
Find out if someone my age could
Use it to survive my mother's spiels!
By Kerin Gedge
Copyright 2015
Love
I walked into the kitchen where
A cake awaited me in there
Freshly baked and dripping chocolate,
It was love at the first bite
I could not say I only liked
It, no indeed I loved it every bit!
That's not to say That I felt strong
Affection like what does belong
To the love a mother feels for her
Children or perhaps brother,
Sister or maybe Father
No the love I felt was of another...
Kind of love, an attraction
Though not the kind of affection
Based on any sexuality!
Let me make it very clear
That kind of love was no where near
The kitchen or found anywhere in me!
Nevertheless less I loved it so
And gave another piece a go
Making noises of such adulation
"Mm mm" I said, that kind of thing,
I loved it so much I could sing
About the baker in warm admiration!
I made a mental note that I
Must find out who made it so I
Could give to them my expression of love,
An assurance of the kind
I would eat any cake I find
If from them before me it was shoved!
And as I thought these tingly thoughts
My warm attachment quickly brought
Another piece to me in one smooth motion,
My grand enthusiasm,
I share without sarcasm,
Was a love that equalled strong devotion!
This cake,oh my, this mighty cake
Was so nice I could not fake
That I had not become hooked and attached,
It was now the object that
Defined all cakes, the grand format
That all cakes from now on must indeed match!
It was about then that my
Love called me up and said hi
My darling wife who'd gone out for the day
She said, "Hi Love." I said, "Hi Dear."
Then she said, "Do not go near
The cake I made for my mother's birthday!"
I gulped and said, "Of course not love"
Then hung up saying, "heavens above!"
I'd failed at the other noble love,
The kind that is selfless and true
That puts another before you
And some say comes from the good Lord above!
Or at the very least the kind
Of brotherly concern for thine
Fellow man or in my special case
The kind of sacrificial thought
That a loving husband aught
To have thus putting his wife in first place!
It was then that I became
A man of faith and loved again
The God whom I hoped would help to save me
From the wrath of my sweet wife
Who vowed to love me for my life
Which was sure to end soon and quickly!
But alas the score was "love"
(As in tennis) for from above
A Father's admonition came to me
And said, "What kind of love would I
Be showing you if from the sky
I let you off the hook so easily?"
So because I loved my wife
(Or perhaps I loved my life)
I baked and baked and baked and baked and baked...
Until I could replace the thing
And by the end of it could bring
Myself to admitting that I hate cake!
Lucre
Whether we are great or small
Lucre is a thing we all
Should avoid most oft and avidly,
It is the profit, one might say,
That's made in a dishonest way,
Put simply it is grubby filthy money!
Click HERE to search The Vocabuverse by Letter
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