You say tomato

Photo by Julia on
You say tomato

It is mottos or mottoes,
Ghettos or ghettoes,
Can be cargos or cargoes
And mangos or mangoes.

Even banjos or banjoes
Or halos and haloes,
Tornados, tornadoes,
Volcanos, volcanoes.

Not heros, just heroes,
Nor potatos, but potatoes,
Never vetos, it's vetoes,
And tomatoes, who knows!


Photo by Pixabay on

Cheeky little blighters,
silent enough to slip unspoken
through the tightest security.
Audacious, irreverent,
helping us laugh, chuckle, giggle,
forget our troubles for a short while.
Collect them, select them,
a pride of nouns,
a mischief of misdemeanours,
a wholesome snicker of double entendre.

Intoxicating creatures,
painting pictures,
whispering undying love,
lifting spirits, breaking hearts.
Chastising, praising,
nurturing, raising.
Essential little hand tools
for describing, explaining,
trying to fathom
the beauty and the mystery of life.

Powerful bastards,
weapons on the lips 
of politicians and presidents.
The potential to heal scars,
stop wars or cause them,
build empires, obliterate countries,
save the world
or destroy the planet.
Words, black as tadpoles,
ubiquitous as death.

That’s all folks

Photo by Pixabay on

That’s all folks

Inquisitive Paul
researched the word caul
in his dictionary, small
finding that wasn’t all
that he had the gall
to not know, like scall.
It made him fair waul
to find the word orle

in his erudite trawl
through the absolute sprawl
of words such as pawl,
schorl, meatball and squall,
bookstall, wherewithal,
netball and jackal,
completely enthralled,
it was Paul’s wonderwall.

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