4 May 2014

Three Days’ Word & Poem of the Week

Hello everyone!

After having done quite a bit of science and history revision—and now being occupied with maths revision (algebraic fractions, hurray!)—I have been lax in my blogging. Sorry.

Anyway, I decided to give you a little treat: the three days’ word and the Poem of the Week! Aren’t you so lucky?

Egregious

Pronunciation: /əgrɛdʒiəs/

Etymology: From LATIN ‘egregius’ meaning ‘illustrious’. (Note: etymology is a weird thing—don’t be surprised if it sounds tenuous or questionable!)

Definition: quite apparently and rather shockingly bad.

Examples:

‘Such egregious publications from vanity presses; you’d think a 10 year-old could do a better job.’

‘Egregious is neoclassical economics—how anyone can take it seriously, I know not.’

‘Egregious teaching from a pedagogy obsessed with tests and league tables.’

And now...

Poem of the Week: The Little Pink House at the End of the Lane

Now, I should warn you: this poem is a little odd. It doesn’t entirely make sense. And if you want to get something out of it—well, there is a message, but it’s very subtle and embedded within the narrative’s arc. Mostly, the poem was my first attempt at rhyme.

The Little Pink House at the End of the Lane

There once was a little pink house:
It had cake-brown walls,
And a toffee-coloured roof;
It had cute, square little windows,
And it was small,
And it was the little pink house at the end of the lane.

Near the little pink house,
There lay a wood—
Its name was funny,
Because it sounded like eerie.
Wolves played at night there,
And caught naughty boys who stayed to listen.

In the little pink house,
There lived a woman and a mouse.
The mouse was pretty and white;
But the woman, oh dear oh dear,
She fed the mouse to the cat.
Such a nasty rat.

The woman was a little old:
She had faint wrinkles around the eyes,
(Of which were grassy green)
But people said she had always been like that.
She had her black and nasty cat,
And a broom as well.

She wore black;
She had a knack for that.
Children did not like her,
Because she gave out sweets,
That smelled like feet;
But the grown-ups thought she was a breeze.

One day,
She started to sneeze.
She had horrible green snot:
It was gooey and yucky, and we
Wouldn’t go near.
But one day we heard her singing, and we went.

It was rather frightening, what she said:
‘Eye of newt, and feet of toad;
‘Fur of rat, and feathers of owl;’
And then she did a funny little dance
And said:
‘Childrens’ teeth.’

She, the woman, then turned:
‘Hello my darlings! What doth thee do here?’
And we said:
‘Lady, lady, are you a witch?’
She laughed merrily, and said,
‘Why no. I’m only a baking a cake!’

And so we saw,
The delicious gingerbread men,
At the little pink house at the end of the lane.

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