“Hey Dad,” she asked me quizzically.
“You know the times we bake—
We get a pinch of this and that
To stir into our cake;
Is there a kitchen implement
That’s smaller than a cup,
But bigger than a spoon that we
Can use to measure up?

“Of course,” I murmured, panicking.
You see, I’d no idea!
I searched my head and stammered out,
“It’s called a Flamboneer.

“Hey Dad, you know the holes we have
To buckle up our belts?
What do we call those little things?”
“They call them Belting Telts.

“The painted lines on highway roads?”
“Oh, Laney-Lines,” I said.
My daughter looked contemplative
And then she cocked her head.

“I have one final question, Dad.”
“What is it, buttercup?”
“What do you call the process where
Your Dad makes new words up?”

wood-cube-473703_1920 - Copy

Image from Pixabay © blickpixel 2014

instagram-icon-square.png   Goodreads Icon_Purple   Amazon Icon   Facebook Icon   Twitter Icon  
For exclusive updates and a free book of poems, join the mailing list!

40 thoughts on “Words

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s