When I encounter a new-to-me word, I often challenge myself to use it in a limerick. Today’s ancient and obscure, but (lucky for me) rhymable word is “cramble.” (As a noun, it refers to broken tree branches thrown to the ground and usable for craft or firewood.)
Through the forest, my husband would ramble
In his quest for good fireplace cramble.
Soon a fire would blaze,
And before it we’d gaze,
As he bandaged his wounds from the bramble.
Once again, I was out on a limb.
I had climbed up a tree on a whim.
(A literal beech;
Not a figure of speech.)
Was safety in reach? Chances slim.
(Note: Even back when I was young, spry, and had good, functioning knee joints, I never climbed trees.)
Ode To Ambling
By Madeleine Begun Kane
Deserting my day-to-day scramble
When the weather is nice, I will amble,
Just taking my time
While I’m still in my prime,
My terminus strictly a gamble.
Mad Kane (Madeleine Begun Kane) is a writer, musician, and "recovering lawyer." She won the Robert Benchley Society Award For Humor and enjoys writing limericks, song parodies, and current events haiku.
You can email her at madkane@madkane.com, visit her political humor blog, or stop by her home page.
