By Joel Buckley
I enjoy onomatopoeic words.
So here’s a poem using all of them.
The ring dropped off her finger and plopped into the sea.
He tore off his coat and gallantly followed it with a dramatic splash.
It was lost.
Swimming to shore and meandering through the squelchy mud, he stumbled across
a whale being eaten by a lion.
The blubber was roar.