Confessions Of A Word Person There’s nothing more diverse than people The things they cherish, that turn them on The things they collect and want to “keeple” Their treasure stashed when day is done. Some like their cars, matchbox or antique Old and battered or shiny and sleek. They polish and buff them then drive them around Taking pleasure in gear shift and motors that sound. Some delight in dishes, with patterns that match And vases and pitchers, or just one of a batch. Some collect ducks, or elephants, or pigs Some look for paintings to enhance their “digs”. But for me, I love words, How they sound, how they rhyme, How they roll off my tongue, Absolutely sublime. Like abstruse and duende, oppugn, fancify, Prodigious and resile, cachinnate,and belie, Vademecum and bedizen, coterminous too Fugacious, inexorable, and then derring-do. I could go on forever for there’s no stopping place, Tapetum is a