Sticks and stones may break my scones (scönes?)
But, words please don’t desert me – or is it dessert me?
They have no use
For a wastrel like what I am;
And however they are put
They drives me caput!
I play with the words
And the words play with me;
It’s a working relationship
Sort of a quid pro quo, in Latin, as you see.
But, sometimes the words
Just won’t come out to play;
And I have no bouche amuse,
For my writing, for me.
But, I can still read words other than mine;
For we all need a Busman’s holiday;
And departure from the scribing is inordinately fine.