Welcome to the website woven for wordaholics, logolepts, and verbivores. Carnivores eat meat; herbivores eat plants and vegetables; verbivores devour words. If you are heels over head (as well as head over heels) in love with words, tarry here a while to graze or, perhaps, feast on the English language. Ours is the only language in which you drive in a parkway and park in a driveway and your nose can run and your feet can smell.

word play

 

DEAR RICHARD: Perhaps you can find a place in your column for this anonymous poetic definition of a pun. -Rick Miles, Sorrento Valley

Two disparate strings of thought,
Tied together with an acoustic knot.

Thanks for your clever couplet, Rick. Here’s my favorite verse definition of a pun, also penned by the prolific Irish writer Ann O’Nymous:

A pun’s the lowest form of wit.
It does not tax the brain a bit.
One merely takes a word that’s plain
And picks one out that sounds the same.

DEAR RICHARD: To be sung, with gusto! –Doug Haise, Carlsbad

Stay away from the ball game!

Don’t go out in a crowd!
You’ll save so much on your Cracker Jack.
It’s unlikely you’ll ever go back.

Keep six feet from your neighbors.
Without your mask it’s a shame:
For it’s one! — two! — the virus hits you
At the old ball game!

DEAR RICHARD: I’ve been writing a bunch for the Château La Jolla newsletter, and I thought this limerick of mine might interest you as it’s related to staying at home. -Debby Davis, La Jolla

While sitting alone in my room
Watching TV and feeling the gloom,
I realized how
The here and the now
Are made better with friends using Zoom.

DEAR RICHARD: Here’s my poetic tribute to my two favorite U-T columnists. -Sunny Vee, San Diego  

‘Twas the holiday season,
But all through the news,
It was oh so depressing,
It gave us the blues.

Except for two bright spots
That keep readers wowin’.
“Thank you for the columns
Of Lederer and Cowan!”

DEAR RICHARD: Not original with me, but clever. –Herman Ackerman, Normal Heights

To err is human,
To forgive is divine.
To moo is bovine.
To bleat is ovine.
To oink is porcine.
To howl is lupine.
To bark is canine.
To purr is feline.
This list is asinine.

DEAR RICHARD:

Every lady in the land
Has twenty nails on each hand,
Five and twenty on hands and feet,
And this is true, without deceit.

The above poem is nonsensical until the reader inserts the missing commas after nails and five.Carl Ingwalson, Mount Soledad

 Finally, here’s my limerick in memory of my dear departed friend and International Punster of the Year, Stan Kegel:

When word wizard Stan eats a bagel,
He’ll start many a pun to finagle.
But when he drinks ten beers,
Puns spew out of his ears,
Because nothing stirs Stan like a keg’ll.