A Way With Words

This month on Touched By Words, it is my great pleasure to feature a guest poet and my dear friend Sandra Parrott.  I’ve heard dozens of Sandra’s poems and prose, but this one is one of my favorites.  If I may suggest you read it out loud – it is fun to read!  You find yourself reading quickly and perhaps even stopping to take a breath and chuckle at her very creative way with words!  Enjoy!

A Way With Words ~ by Sandra Parrott

If words were money, I’d be richer than The Donald.  Real estate king and buffoon billionaire, extraordinaire of the millennium.  I roll in words, every one I utter turns to gold.  Even the little words, like on, it,at if, he and she.  They count, they pile up like mountains of change, add up to dollar bills.

I love the quiet mid-size words, house, heart scissors, banana, begonia, duck, doctor, ditto, verbena azalea, cicada.  What is it about the word cicada?  I love that sound.  Crickets just cricket, but cicadas serenade us, cicade us!

Let’s pile up happy words, sad words, mad and glad words, angry, spiteful, furious, words that shake our foundations, make the earth tremble.  We’ll get some verbs going too, we’ll run, laugh, leap, fly, cry, jump, jiggle.  Let’s build, create, play, ponder, smile with style, mingle and tingle, wiggle, giggle and nod.

Words make the world go round.   His words thrilled me, chilled me, killed me, touched my soul, broke my heart, made me weak, made me strong.  Words of wisdom, words of rage, words of comfort, words of sage.  Important words that define an age.  Mighty words, flighty words, sticks and stones may break my bones, but words…..

I don’t like tentative, wavering words, throw them all away.  Forget sort of, maybe, might, almost, perhaps and try.  I maybe, perhaps might try to write something. What does that mean?  Nothing.  While we’re at it, let’s get ride of should of, could of and would of.  Better to be strong, clear and direct.  No equivocating!

And what about words with insidious intent, ugly words that distort, confuse and misdirect.  Words we wish we’d never heard?  Mediocre, maladroit, stupid, crushing words, bloody, bovine, oozing, decrepit, rancid sick words.  Enough.  They’re so unlike these pretty precious words, sunshine, languor, lullaby, darling, aurora, lily, ruby, laugh, spark, lark, let’s go to the park after dark.  You can’t stop me.  I’m rolling in words!  Wallowing, frolicking, swimming.  I do, I will, I must, I shall prevail.  You can’t make me, I stand firm, I won’t, I shan’t, I can’t, I’ll dig in forever and never give up!

These favorite words, fill my mouth when I say them.  So meaty, beaty and bouncy, serendipity, a happy accident, an oxymoron of a word if I ever heard one.  Onomatopoeia, sounds exactly like what it describes.  A word that rings like a bell, buzzes, creaks, peals, purrs, clangs, honks, snaps and sizzles.  Boggle, boggles me.  Scrumptious, a delectable buttery word, that melts in your mouth (not in your hand).

Clandestine, its just between you and me, baby.  Hypnagogic, a magical state of mind that hovers between sleeping and waking.  And the stratosphere, well, its far greater than the mind can possibly comprehend.

Effervescent, gossamer, radiant, mesmerizing, crystalline, luscious, lustrous, butterfly hues of aubergine, ultramarine, lilac and lemon.  These are a few of my favorite, maverick, treasured words.



About Patty Young

Patricia Young spent most of her life in the Northeast. Before the casinos arrived and many of the safety rails installed, she would walk Bushkill Falls and enjoy time in a little cabin by Meadow Lake near the Delaware Water Gap. The school year was spent in New Jersey, but many summers were spent in Mississippi where she wandered in the woods, ride horses, reading comic books and played with cousins. After graduating from college with a degree in education, she taught fifth grade in Queens. When rent climbed higher than her salary she working for a defense industry in Yonkers before starting a small business called, The Giving Tree Day Care. For fifteen years she was fondly "held hostage by two year olds!" Writing every day for in a notebook for each child to keep communication open and flowing to the families. Fast forward to the spring of 2013 diagnosed with sever carpal tunnel syndrome (she does NOT recommend having both hands done at the same time! Often wondering "What was I thinking?!") Physical therapy and time slowly began the healing process and gardening strengthened her hands. After an unexpected, but deeply personal journey to Montana in the fall of 2013 she decided it was time to reinvent herself and embrace her passion for words. With renewed confidence, and a plan to do the work necessary to become a writer, she began writing every day (with the help of 750Words.com - thank you Kellianne and Buster!), submitting to a variety of magazines and contests to practice the craft. As well as participating in the Learning to See poetry programs offered at the local library. Attending writing retreats, workshops, lectures, taking classes, reading and immersing herself in the process. She began to work with writers and authors in the tri-state area. Presently living in Westchester New York Patricia lives with her husband of 29 years, two daughters – both attending college and grad school and a dear college friend – all under the roof of a little cape cod. Its snug – but the laughter and support is rich and full! Patricia is working on her first novel with her editor, with hopes and dreams and fingers crossed to find an agent in the fall of 2015. You are invited to join her on this journey of a writer. To experience her trials, successes and stumbles along the way. Perhaps it will help you find your brave, and if writing is in your soul - to join her. Share your stories and maybe together we will unravel some of the complexities of this life. To heal, hope and learn what we can from one another, in the time we have. To listen and hear one another's stories. Breathe Deep, Think Peace Patty
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