I raise orisons that our sons will become neither corsairs, nor scaramouches, nor wights that diddle the brit from unsuspecting right whales.
Use these to make your very own sentence. Please?
wight
brit
scaramouch
corsairs
diddle
orisons
Save the Whales
21
Apr
Christine
Christina Joy
Jeannette
A Classic Case of Madness 
Adriana @ Classical Quest
April 21, 2012 at 6:50 am
A POEM
— dedicated to my children
Little corsairs, heed your mother –
Do not diddle one another.
Please stop bickering;
Don’t fight.
Show love unto your fellow wight.
If your lip should start to pouch,
You might be thought — a scaramouch!
My love for you will never quit,
Though you would fill my tub with brit.
Tomorrow is a new horizon –
Gather now, to say orisons.
Ruth
April 21, 2012 at 11:14 am
Adriana, you’re a poet! That takes talent.
Christina Joy
April 21, 2012 at 11:53 am
Wuh-Ow-Uh! (and I don’t throw around my three-syllable wows lightly.)
We might have spent some time on our run this morning figuring out how you were able to come up with this poetic gem so quickly, and questioning whether or not you ever sleep.
Adriana @ Classical Quest
April 21, 2012 at 1:19 pm
Ladies, you’re too kind.
I’ve never received a three-syllable “wow” before Christina. You crack me up.
Started it on the day you posted “scaramouch”.
“Brit” was a bit of a stretch to add (though not really, if you knew my kids).
I was thrilled when you posted “orisons” — the perfect wrap-up word.
Great words this week Christina!
Jeannette
April 21, 2012 at 3:04 pm
Adriana, I am truly amazed. Poetry Hebdominal Review will never be topped. This is my prediction.