here is
my own recipe
letters simmering
e
vs v
d s v
e dp o
vel p mo
opes om
m delvs po v
veld opes om
poem solved
My owner, George, wrestles with leaves every Fall.
Even though I'm getting old and parts of me are
breaking down, I'm there for him upon every call.
He loves me and refuses to toss or give me away.
Because the leaves fall in bundles for weeks,
He does his best to keep me prepared for work.
He knows that I am among the best, and getting
old is not tantamount to becoming useless.
I'm the scooping type, not the pitch shovel.
I can pick something up, but cannot dig for it.
Presently, my handle is broken, but he hasn't found a fix.
George is respectful and calls me Vel, short for shovel.
My coworker friend, the rusty old tool box, is gone. My
master gave Rusty away, hoping a new family will love him too.
George gave Rusty away, not because he was no longer useful,
but because he felt someone else needed Rusty more. I miss Rusty,
and I pray every night to remain in George's family until I die.
081223PS
I-nvisible
A-nd
N-asty
A-ttack
V-iciously
E-mploys
L-ink's
M-orbid
U-nknown
N-otoriously
D-elivering
A-trocious
S-pread
Topic: Birthday of Iana Vel Mundas (June 09)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
I-mpressive
A-crostic
N-icely
A-nd
V-ividly
E-mploys
L-ovely
M-use
U-sing
N-oble
D-enotation
A-bout
S-weetness
Topic: Birthday of Iana Vel Mundas (June 09)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
I-t's
A-lways
N-ice
A-s
V-iewed
E-ternal
L-ife
M-akes
U-s
N-ot
D-epart
A-nd
S-carper
Topic: Birthday of Iana Vel Mundas (June 09)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
My marvelous storm cloud,
My vaporific Vel,
I cannot say your name out loud
I hide beneath your spell.
Though you kill sunlight,
You remind me that it’s there,
But when you hide my inner light,
You are quite a dark nightmare.
Once I did hate you,
I cannot do so now.
You take away the bright sky blue--
It’s night time, anyhow.
And one question remains:
Can you ever be loved?
I know hurricanes
Could never be shoved.
But the wind you create
Pushes me over
Will you never abate?
I pluck a four-leafed clover...
I wish you back in the Well,
Living there without me.
But after I fell,
You would not let me be.
Please, Vella,
Leave me alone.
I’ll take out my umbrella,
Just look how I’ve grown.
Watered by your tears
And warmed by your absence,
But, gentle for years,
You haven’t stabbed since
We left the Wishing Well.
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