#rhyming — Public Fediverse posts

Spotted in my RSS feeds: RhymeHamster. From the brief site tour: “Type a word. RhymeHamster fetches real rhymes — curated by a working lyricist, with no filler and no nonsense words.”

Spotted in my RSS feeds: RhymeHamster. From the brief site tour: “Type a word. RhymeHamster fetches real rhymes — curated by a working lyricist, with no filler and no nonsense words.”

Spotted in my RSS feeds: RhymeHamster. From the brief site tour: “Type a word. RhymeHamster fetches real rhymes — curated by a working lyricist, with no filler and no nonsense words.”

Spotted in my RSS feeds: RhymeHamster. From the brief site tour: “Type a word. RhymeHamster fetches real rhymes — curated by a working lyricist, with no filler and no nonsense words.”

Spotted in my RSS feeds: RhymeHamster. From the brief site tour: “Type a word. RhymeHamster fetches real rhymes — curated by a working lyricist, with no filler and no nonsense words.”

Guys, like, fuck the Christian church and everything, but there still some damn pretty hymns and I need you guys (aka professional recording choirs) to DIAL THE FUCK IN, ESPECIALLY IF YOU SELF ID AS CHRISTIAN…

"Eben-Ezer" is all short e sounds - eh-behn eh-zehr - the "Ebenezer Scrooge" pronunciation may be correct for a name, but not actually correct for "Eben Ezer" - AS IN - AND FURTHERMORE - SPECIFICALLY - "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing" - which is a real banger - Ebenezer is CLEARLY SUPPOSED to RHYME WITH PLEASURE - like even Cole Porter wouldn't deliberately try to fudge a rhyme that bad!

and also - come on people - A Christmas Carol was published in 1843; the hymn was written by Robert Robinson in 1757/8

the Mack Wilberg arrangement of Come Thou Fount is so fucking stunning but the long-e EbenEEzer just kills my soul every time and totally glitches the vibe

rhyming poem titled "what's really in the fountain?" written today during my long morning drive

#poem #poetry #poet #rhyme #rhyming #CreativeWriting #writing

rhyming poem titled "what's really in the fountain?" written today during my long morning drive

#poem #poetry #poet #rhyme #rhyming #CreativeWriting #writing

rhyming poem titled "what's really in the fountain?" written today during my long morning drive

#poem #poetry #poet #rhyme #rhyming #CreativeWriting #writing

rhyming poem titled "what's really in the fountain?" written today during my long morning drive

#poem #poetry #poet #rhyme #rhyming #CreativeWriting #writing

rhyming poem titled "what's really in the fountain?" written today during my long morning drive

#poem #poetry #poet #rhyme #rhyming #CreativeWriting #writing

Dear Heavenly Father,

https://heathercongrove.com/2026/07/30/dear-heavenly-father/

I learn so many things from doing puzzles.

For example this week I learned that Connections creator Wyna Liu does not have the cot-caught distinction.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cot%E2%80%93caught_merger

#connections
#rhyming
#TooManyVowels

I learn so many things from doing puzzles.

For example this week I learned that Connections creator Wyna Liu does not have the cot-caught distinction.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cot%E2%80%93caught_merger

#connections
#rhyming
#TooManyVowels

I learn so many things from doing puzzles.

For example this week I learned that Connections creator Wyna Liu does not have the cot-caught distinction.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cot%E2%80%93caught_merger

#connections
#rhyming
#TooManyVowels

I learn so many things from doing puzzles.

For example this week I learned that Connections creator Wyna Liu does not have the cot-caught distinction.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cot%E2%80%93caught_merger

#connections
#rhyming
#TooManyVowels

I learn so many things from doing puzzles.

For example this week I learned that Connections creator Wyna Liu does not have the cot-caught distinction.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cot%E2%80%93caught_merger

#connections
#rhyming
#TooManyVowels

An Answer to Auden: The Truth About Love, 1937 to 2026

In 1937, W. H. Auden published “O Tell Me the Truth About Love” inside a sequence called Twelve Songs. The poem is a list of comic guesses about what love might look like, smell like, sound like, do. Each refrain stanza ends in the same plea: tell me. The song is a young man’s question asked across a noisy room, hoping someone older will answer.

What strikes me about Auden’s poem is that it never gets the answer. The poem ends with another question. That refusal to answer is honest in 1937, when Europe was breaking and a man’s love could not yet be named in his own newspapers. But eighty-nine years later, with a long marriage in the rearview and a mother and father in the ground, the silence has paid its rent. It is time to answer Auden back.

The reply-poem is a long English tradition. Christopher Marlowe’s shepherd offered roses; Walter Raleigh’s nymph counted the days. The form requires that the answer use the asker’s structure as scaffolding, then build something the asker did not see. What follows uses Auden’s 1937 architecture exactly: seven stanzas of eight lines, alternating narrative and refrain, the same rhyme scheme, the same line counts. The walls match. The interior is mine.

I’ll Tell You the Truth About Love

after W. H. Auden

I

They said that love would find me late,
And said it finds you young,
They said it’s how a kitchen sounds
When supper has been sung,
The grocer paused above the till,
A driver shook his head,
The neighbor at the laundromat
Pretended he was dead.

II

It is patient as kettles still humming,
And as warm as the day before snow,
It is faithful as winter still coming,
And as slow as the calluses grow,
It is heavy as wood in the weather,
And as old as the beams up above,
It will hold the long marriage together,
And I’ll tell you the truth about love.

III

You’ll find it in a folded shirt
Your father saved for years,
You’ll find it tucked behind the books
That outlived all your fears,
It’s printed on the bottom of
The mug you cannot break,
It hums in radiators when
The first long winters wake.

IV

It will wake you with grief in the morning,
And it leaves like a guest on its way,
It will come without notice or warning,
And it stays until nothing’s to say,
It is stubborn as paint on the railing,
And as weighty as joists up above,
It will linger when everything’s failing,
And I’ll tell you the truth about love.

V

I searched the church on Christopher,
It wasn’t standing watch;
I drove the loop around the bay,
And studied every notch;
I don’t know what the river held,
Or what the streetlamp swore,
It wasn’t on the diner’s plate,
Or near the kitchen door.

VI

It is patient as wood in the ember,
And as warm as the dog at your feet,
It is older than time can remember
That you walked off alone in the street,
It is steady when houses grow shaken,
And as quiet as snow from above,
It can speak all the names that are taken,
And I’ll tell you the truth about love.

VII

It will come like a sweater you’re weaving,
From the wool of the years that have flown,
It arrives in the room you are leaving,
With the look of a face you have known,
It will hold what no science can steady,
And remain when the weather is rough,
It will stay when your friends are not ready,
And I’ll tell you the truth about love.

Auden asked because he was thirty and unsure. I answer because I am sixty-one and have watched what stays. The thing we keep asking the truth about, we keep asking because we are afraid the answer will be small. It is small. The answer is the kettle, the calluses, the room you are leaving. What it wears is a sweater you are still weaving. Auden left his question open in 1937. I close mine in 2026.

An Answer to Auden: The Truth About Love, 1937 to 2026

In 1937, W. H. Auden published “O Tell Me the Truth About Love” inside a sequence called Twelve Songs. The poem is a list of comic guesses about what love might look like, smell like, sound like, do. Each refrain stanza ends in the same plea: tell me. The song is a young man’s question asked across a noisy room, hoping someone older will answer.

What strikes me about Auden’s poem is that it never gets the answer. The poem ends with another question. That refusal to answer is honest in 1937, when Europe was breaking and a man’s love could not yet be named in his own newspapers. But eighty-nine years later, with a long marriage in the rearview and a mother and father in the ground, the silence has paid its rent. It is time to answer Auden back.

The reply-poem is a long English tradition. Christopher Marlowe’s shepherd offered roses; Walter Raleigh’s nymph counted the days. The form requires that the answer use the asker’s structure as scaffolding, then build something the asker did not see. What follows uses Auden’s 1937 architecture exactly: seven stanzas of eight lines, alternating narrative and refrain, the same rhyme scheme, the same line counts. The walls match. The interior is mine.

I’ll Tell You the Truth About Love

after W. H. Auden

I

They said that love would find me late,
And said it finds you young,
They said it’s how a kitchen sounds
When supper has been sung,
The grocer paused above the till,
A driver shook his head,
The neighbor at the laundromat
Pretended he was dead.

II

It is patient as kettles still humming,
And as warm as the day before snow,
It is faithful as winter still coming,
And as slow as the calluses grow,
It is heavy as wood in the weather,
And as old as the beams up above,
It will hold the long marriage together,
And I’ll tell you the truth about love.

III

You’ll find it in a folded shirt
Your father saved for years,
You’ll find it tucked behind the books
That outlived all your fears,
It’s printed on the bottom of
The mug you cannot break,
It hums in radiators when
The first long winters wake.

IV

It will wake you with grief in the morning,
And it leaves like a guest on its way,
It will come without notice or warning,
And it stays until nothing’s to say,
It is stubborn as paint on the railing,
And as weighty as joists up above,
It will linger when everything’s failing,
And I’ll tell you the truth about love.

V

I searched the church on Christopher,
It wasn’t standing watch;
I drove the loop around the bay,
And studied every notch;
I don’t know what the river held,
Or what the streetlamp swore,
It wasn’t on the diner’s plate,
Or near the kitchen door.

VI

It is patient as wood in the ember,
And as warm as the dog at your feet,
It is older than time can remember
That you walked off alone in the street,
It is steady when houses grow shaken,
And as quiet as snow from above,
It can speak all the names that are taken,
And I’ll tell you the truth about love.

VII

It will come like a sweater you’re weaving,
From the wool of the years that have flown,
It arrives in the room you are leaving,
With the look of a face you have known,
It will hold what no science can steady,
And remain when the weather is rough,
It will stay when your friends are not ready,
And I’ll tell you the truth about love.

Auden asked because he was thirty and unsure. I answer because I am sixty-one and have watched what stays. The thing we keep asking the truth about, we keep asking because we are afraid the answer will be small. It is small. The answer is the kettle, the calluses, the room you are leaving. What it wears is a sweater you are still weaving. Auden left his question open in 1937. I close mine in 2026.

An Answer to Auden: The Truth About Love, 1937 to 2026

In 1937, W. H. Auden published “O Tell Me the Truth About Love” inside a sequence called Twelve Songs. The poem is a list of comic guesses about what love might look like, smell like, sound like, do. Each refrain stanza ends in the same plea: tell me. The song is a young man’s question asked across a noisy room, hoping someone older will answer.

What strikes me about Auden’s poem is that it never gets the answer. The poem ends with another question. That refusal to answer is honest in 1937, when Europe was breaking and a man’s love could not yet be named in his own newspapers. But eighty-nine years later, with a long marriage in the rearview and a mother and father in the ground, the silence has paid its rent. It is time to answer Auden back.

The reply-poem is a long English tradition. Christopher Marlowe’s shepherd offered roses; Walter Raleigh’s nymph counted the days. The form requires that the answer use the asker’s structure as scaffolding, then build something the asker did not see. What follows uses Auden’s 1937 architecture exactly: seven stanzas of eight lines, alternating narrative and refrain, the same rhyme scheme, the same line counts. The walls match. The interior is mine.

I’ll Tell You the Truth About Love

after W. H. Auden

I

They said that love would find me late,
And said it finds you young,
They said it’s how a kitchen sounds
When supper has been sung,
The grocer paused above the till,
A driver shook his head,
The neighbor at the laundromat
Pretended he was dead.

II

It is patient as kettles still humming,
And as warm as the day before snow,
It is faithful as winter still coming,
And as slow as the calluses grow,
It is heavy as wood in the weather,
And as old as the beams up above,
It will hold the long marriage together,
And I’ll tell you the truth about love.

III

You’ll find it in a folded shirt
Your father saved for years,
You’ll find it tucked behind the books
That outlived all your fears,
It’s printed on the bottom of
The mug you cannot break,
It hums in radiators when
The first long winters wake.

IV

It will wake you with grief in the morning,
And it leaves like a guest on its way,
It will come without notice or warning,
And it stays until nothing’s to say,
It is stubborn as paint on the railing,
And as weighty as joists up above,
It will linger when everything’s failing,
And I’ll tell you the truth about love.

V

I searched the church on Christopher,
It wasn’t standing watch;
I drove the loop around the bay,
And studied every notch;
I don’t know what the river held,
Or what the streetlamp swore,
It wasn’t on the diner’s plate,
Or near the kitchen door.

VI

It is patient as wood in the ember,
And as warm as the dog at your feet,
It is older than time can remember
That you walked off alone in the street,
It is steady when houses grow shaken,
And as quiet as snow from above,
It can speak all the names that are taken,
And I’ll tell you the truth about love.

VII

It will come like a sweater you’re weaving,
From the wool of the years that have flown,
It arrives in the room you are leaving,
With the look of a face you have known,
It will hold what no science can steady,
And remain when the weather is rough,
It will stay when your friends are not ready,
And I’ll tell you the truth about love.

Auden asked because he was thirty and unsure. I answer because I am sixty-one and have watched what stays. The thing we keep asking the truth about, we keep asking because we are afraid the answer will be small. It is small. The answer is the kettle, the calluses, the room you are leaving. What it wears is a sweater you are still weaving. Auden left his question open in 1937. I close mine in 2026.

#poem #poetry #writing #rhymes #rhyming

for those whomst dont do instagram

#poem #poetry #writing #rhymes #rhyming

for those whomst dont do instagram

#poem #poetry #writing #rhymes #rhyming

for those whomst dont do instagram

#poem #poetry #writing #rhymes #rhyming

for those whomst dont do instagram

#poem #poetry #writing #rhymes #rhyming

for those whomst dont do instagram

I've been involuntarily awake since 3:11 AM and it seems to me that there's something very sinister about the way that the words "spatula" and "Dracula" rhyme.
#Rhyming #Spatula #Dracula #Insomnia

I've been involuntarily awake since 3:11 AM and it seems to me that there's something very sinister about the way that the words "spatula" and "Dracula" rhyme.
#Rhyming #Spatula #Dracula #Insomnia

I've been involuntarily awake since 3:11 AM and it seems to me that there's something very sinister about the way that the words "spatula" and "Dracula" rhyme.
#Rhyming #Spatula #Dracula #Insomnia

I've been involuntarily awake since 3:11 AM and it seems to me that there's something very sinister about the way that the words "spatula" and "Dracula" rhyme.
#Rhyming #Spatula #Dracula #Insomnia

I've been involuntarily awake since 3:11 AM and it seems to me that there's something very sinister about the way that the words "spatula" and "Dracula" rhyme.
#Rhyming #Spatula #Dracula #Insomnia

RE: https://mastodon.social/@enyantiomer/112208386551079350

>"You’re one funny fascist away from being a collaborator
But feel free to fabricate that you’re a radical advocate, arbiter and abrogator
Someone will likely sort it later way past due date or however long it takes for you to reach the stage where you feel safe to reappraise your neighbour’s odd behaviour
Classified as a yassified tongue in cheek satire that its your fault that you fall for such palpable set dressing fabrications for more war theatres"

#poem #poetry #rhyming #rhymes #writing

RE: https://mastodon.social/@enyantiomer/112208386551079350

>"You’re one funny fascist away from being a collaborator
But feel free to fabricate that you’re a radical advocate, arbiter and abrogator
Someone will likely sort it later way past due date or however long it takes for you to reach the stage where you feel safe to reappraise your neighbour’s odd behaviour
Classified as a yassified tongue in cheek satire that its your fault that you fall for such palpable set dressing fabrications for more war theatres"

#poem #poetry #rhyming #rhymes #writing

RE: https://mastodon.social/@enyantiomer/112208386551079350

>"You’re one funny fascist away from being a collaborator
But feel free to fabricate that you’re a radical advocate, arbiter and abrogator
Someone will likely sort it later way past due date or however long it takes for you to reach the stage where you feel safe to reappraise your neighbour’s odd behaviour
Classified as a yassified tongue in cheek satire that its your fault that you fall for such palpable set dressing fabrications for more war theatres"

#poem #poetry #rhyming #rhymes #writing

RE: https://mastodon.social/@enyantiomer/112208386551079350

>"You’re one funny fascist away from being a collaborator
But feel free to fabricate that you’re a radical advocate, arbiter and abrogator
Someone will likely sort it later way past due date or however long it takes for you to reach the stage where you feel safe to reappraise your neighbour’s odd behaviour
Classified as a yassified tongue in cheek satire that its your fault that you fall for such palpable set dressing fabrications for more war theatres"

#poem #poetry #rhyming #rhymes #writing

RE: https://mastodon.social/@enyantiomer/112208386551079350

>"You’re one funny fascist away from being a collaborator
But feel free to fabricate that you’re a radical advocate, arbiter and abrogator
Someone will likely sort it later way past due date or however long it takes for you to reach the stage where you feel safe to reappraise your neighbour’s odd behaviour
Classified as a yassified tongue in cheek satire that its your fault that you fall for such palpable set dressing fabrications for more war theatres"

#poem #poetry #rhyming #rhymes #writing

Whispers of Remembrance

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/11/whispers-of-remembrance/

Whispers of Remembrance

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/11/whispers-of-remembrance/

Whispers of Remembrance

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/11/whispers-of-remembrance/

Whispers of Remembrance

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/11/whispers-of-remembrance/

Whispers of Remembrance

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/11/whispers-of-remembrance/

Dear Son,

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/09/dear-son/

Dear Son,

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/09/dear-son/

Dear Son,

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/09/dear-son/

Dear Son,

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/09/dear-son/

Dear Son,

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/09/dear-son/

I wrote this today from the bottom up... the last two lines have been stuck in my head for awhile... "a day to be won from the man behind the sun" ... it's an interesting idea... let me know what you think...

#Poem #Poetry #Poet #Lyrics #CreativeWriting #Rhyming #Rhyme

I wrote this today from the bottom up... the last two lines have been stuck in my head for awhile... "a day to be won from the man behind the sun" ... it's an interesting idea... let me know what you think...

#Poem #Poetry #Poet #Lyrics #CreativeWriting #Rhyming #Rhyme

I wrote this today from the bottom up... the last two lines have been stuck in my head for awhile... "a day to be won from the man behind the sun" ... it's an interesting idea... let me know what you think...

#Poem #Poetry #Poet #Lyrics #CreativeWriting #Rhyming #Rhyme

#poem #poetry #writing #rhyming #rhymes

for those whomst dont do instagram

#poem #poetry #writing #rhyming #rhymes

for those whomst dont do instagram

#poem #poetry #writing #rhyming #rhymes

for those whomst dont do instagram

#poem #poetry #writing #rhyming #rhymes

for those whomst dont do instagram

#poem #poetry #writing #rhyming #rhymes

for those whomst dont do instagram

Homeschool Mama

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/04/homeschool-mama/

Homeschool Mama

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/04/homeschool-mama/

Homeschool Mama

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/04/homeschool-mama/

Homeschool Mama

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/04/homeschool-mama/

My secret keeper

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/03/my-seeker-keeper/

My secret keeper

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/03/my-seeker-keeper/

My secret keeper

https://hcongrove2.com/2026/01/03/my-seeker-keeper/