I Love Words
I love words. I like gruff words, such as din, don, cavort, curt, and cull. I like words that well up in my throat as I sputter them out, like tea leaves choking a drain. I like litigious words, such as adjournment, adjudicate, affidavit, and abjure. I like polysyllables that flow like honey from my lips. I like arcane Franco-words, such as demesne, demimonde, debonair, puissant, and hauteur. I like mouthing old words, like blowing dust from a scruffy tome of yore. I like rotund and Pecksniffian words, such as prestidigitation, tintinnabulation, sesquipedalian, pusillanimous, pulchritudinous, and rodomontade. I like words that crackle in the open air, like fireworks bursting in the welkin. I like dialectal words, such as snollygoster and gallimaufry. I like words that congeal like sweet molasses on my tongue, hardened by the rough lapse of time. I like scathing words, such as vituperate, logomachy, pugnacious, bludgeon, and oppugnant. I like words that cut deep, like the talons of a predating falcon into the flesh of its prey. I like metathetical and nearly unpronounceable words, such as folderol, cavalry, and parabola. I like words that make the tongue contort and dance, like wind chimes in the breeze.
Although I may know many, I still love words. May I have a few with you?