Dust off the Dictionary
I am archaic and forgotten these are my dusty tomes
The perennial deipnosophist verbally alone
With flowing ink my guide, the page my diligent doxy
I capriciously choose my diction and propose my proxy
A peccant periapt around thy neck, I’ll drag thee
Along the hyperborean, yet sullen, road you see
Hoarfrost coated little old me helpless and miserly
Carry on, my linguistics are aged unfortunately
The bruit is that the caducity of my tenure is
The reason for this rhyme; I digress and must stress that this
This, is but a puzzle, it is but a conundrum.
I'll let you decipher amongst the humdrum
Copyright © Tim B | Year Posted 2014
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