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Pardon my Alliteration: M

May 11th, 2016 2 comments

Memphis Metropolitan Museum members, Miss Madeline Monahan and Mrs. Mona Miller, Madeline’s matronly mother, munched mounds of macadamia mints and managed to manipulate monstrous mango margaritas.

“Mother, Mark Masterson is a minister.”

“Maverick Mark, a minister?” Mona muttered.

“Misgivings, Mummy?”

“Massive misgivings, Madeline. A mortician, mechanic or mass murderer, maybe, but a minister?” Mona mocked melodramatically.

“A military missionary to Malaysia, Mother! Major Mark Masterson.”

Mona moaned.

“Mark’s married, Mumsy.  Met Megan Madison at Michigan’s Methodist Missionary matriculation.  Met in March, married in May.  Megan’s a music major, marvelously melodic, magnificent match!”

“Music and ministry?  Mark Masterson? Marvel of marvels,” Mona mumbled.

“Mark’s mellowed Mums, maybe metaphysical meditations!” 

Mona maneuvered another mango margarita and a marmalade macaroon mini muffin.

“Mischievous Markie Masterson a military Major and metaphysical Methodist Malaysian missionary, married to melodious music major Megan Madison? 

Mercy me, Maddie, mercy me!”

Pardon My Alliteration: C . . . contrived? certainly ! Oh oh, soft C. Does that count?

September 27th, 2012 Comments off

Carl couldn’t convince Casey to come closer. “Come Casey, come to Carl.”  

 Carl’s cousin Chris’s cute cougar cub, Casey, calmly caressed Carl’s cashmere coat. 

“Call Captain Clark’s Cat Center in Cleveland, Chris.”

“Captain Clyde Clark?  Can he confiscate coats from cougar cubs?”

“Conceivably, call!     Crazy cousin, crazy cat!”

“Captain Clark?  Chris Carter calling.  Casey’s collar chain caught on Carl’s cushioned chair and Casey climbed up on Carl’s camel colored cashmere coat.  Correct, Captain, costly!  Carl’s complaining and Casey’s curled in comfort.”

“Contrive a compromise?  Captain, cougars control compromise, comprehend?”

“Carl, Captain’s chuckling!”

“Captain Clark . . . Carl.  Cantankerous Casey is cuddling my camel colored cashmere Christmas coat.  I can’t condone cub claws on cashmere, Captain.  Casey’s conduct is causing considerable consternation.”

Contrite, Captain Clark calmly conceptualized clear, clever, creative considerations.  Carl’s conversation convinced Chris of Captain Clark’s competency and cunning concerning captured cats. 

“Chris, Captain’s commands: cut cubes of Casey’s common caloric consumption in a caged container.  Casey can consume culinary contents, canceling control of the cashmere coat.”

“Congratulations Captain!” Complimented Chris.  “Casey’s consoled and Carl’s celebrating!”

The Captain crowed, “A cinch!”

“A consultation check is cheerfully contributed in compensation to Cleveland’s consummate Captive Cat Center!” continued Chris.

Captain Clark concluded, “Cool!  Customer commendation, consultation check coming   . . . can’t complain!”

Pardon My Alliteration: P

August 10th, 2012 1 comment

 


Patricia Parker’s pet pigeons paraded past platform of puzzled Pennsylvania  preachers. 

Pastor Paul Patterson participated, playfully praising Patricia’s priceless pigeon performers.  

Pamela Palmer, parochial parent, provided pretty pastries and passages of poignant poetry .

Pastors publicly posed for pictures, pontificated politely, and privately pondered passing of proper protestant protocol.


mwt

Mary Taylor says, “Pardon Me as I Alliterate B’s”

July 5th, 2012 1 comment

                                                        

                                             Baby Babs

Betsy Bartholomew babbled  . . . bathing Barbara’s baby Babs. “Babbsie’s boo boo bootiful!”

Brenda Bates bristled, “Barbara, Betsy’s baby-babbling!” 

“Babblings’s beautiful Brenda!” Betsy backtalked. “Bing’s benign babbling brought big bucks – billions!” 

“Betsy,” blamed Brenda. “Babbling to babies is bad behavior!”

“Bob Barker and Billy Barty both believed babbling  beneficial to brighten babies’ brains,” boasted Betsy.  “Besides, Babs is beaming because of babbling.”

“Bah! Baseless baloney! Babs is beaming because of bubbles, Betsy!”  Brenda blasted.

“Busybody bystander Brenda!”  Bandied Betsy bitterly.

“Bring Babs to bed, Brenda,” begged Barbara.

Bubbles burst, bliss broken –  baby Babs began bawling.

“Blanket Babs’ bare bottom Brenda. Babs is buff buff,” buzzed Betsy behind Brenda’s back.

“Blended beverage Betsy?”  Bellowed Barbara’s bald brother, Billy Bob.

“Better bring Betsy a big bottle of boo boo booze, Billy Bob,” bemused Brenda.

 Berating bickering became boisterous, bugging Barbara.

 Baffled , Babs burped beguilingly. 

 “Brenda, Betsy, beloved Billy Bob,” Barbara bristled boldly,  “Babs’ bedtime beckons, BYE BYE!” 

 

Pardon My Alliteration: S

November 5th, 2010 4 comments

Sad Saga

Savannah, c 1865    (An imagined scenario  from the Sivil War)

Sara, sixteen, solemnly summoned sweet songs she’d sung in Sunday School.  So sorrowful since seasons of singing songs.  Searing scenes shattered Sara as she saw sad sights of sisters: Sophia, Selina, Selma, Stephanie, Sondra and Shelly.

She sat,  spirit sinking steadily,  suddenly she started shaking.  Staring, she saw someone stepping slowly, swaying, shamefully staggering  the straight sunbaked streets of Savannah.  Saturday, she’d seen some scraggly soldiers  seizing Southern salvage.

Sara slurred, “Savage spoiler! Sick, sloven, swine!”

She said to self, shouldn’t scream, should scurry someplace safe.  Smothering squeamish sounds, she slipped stealthily to a shady Sycamore.  She, a sequestered sentinel, saw Staff Sergeant Samuel Stafford Stallings, sipping, stumbling, subsequently swooning, sinking, stone still.

She stayed stationary, searching to see soldiers seeking the Sergeant. Shh. silence. Sara suffered as she stood stiffly, suspended, a sacrificial symbol, this spared sole survivor of seven Stillwell sisters.

Sara’s strength and stamina surged as shadows settled.  Stepping slowly, space shrank as she stooped and shook Sergeant Stallings’ strong, slim shoulders.

Still, so still.  Succumbed to sour spirits she supposed.

Suddenly Sara’s suppressed sadness severed her Sunday School sensibilities and something in Sara snapped.  She stridently screamed sacred scriptures as she struggled to singlehandedly strangle the sleeping Staff Sergeant Samuel Stafford Stallings, seventeen, the sixth of September.

Sad, so sad.

by Mary Taylor, Southern Sister

Pardon my Alliteration: R

February 20th, 2010 Comments off


Pardon my alliteration: R


“Roxanne ,” Rex remarked.  “Raymond Redding reopened Riveredge Rendezvous Restaurant.”

“Really?  Reasonable rates?”

“Relatively.”

“Refinancing remodeling . . .  risky, right?”

“Rumors relay Raymond’s  rapidly recovering revenue. Renovation represents rejuvenation, resiliency, respectability.”

“Restaurateur Raymond Reddings resourcefully reversed riverboat recession . . . remarkable!”


mwt

Alliteration: A

October 29th, 2009 Comments off


English Department

Alliteration 101

 “Another alliteration?” Allison asked.

“Alliterations are adorable,” answered Angela.

“Aww, adorable?” asked Andrew.

“An academic achievement Austin!”  avouched Allison.

“Absurdly academic ,” admonished Austin.

“Affirmative!” Andrew added. “Affected, amateurish, annoying and aggrandizing.”

Angela allowed all answers amicably, avoiding another altercation.

“Alright!” Allison appeased. “Appreciate or against, alliterations are authorized assignments.”

Andrew affirmed,  Austin apologized, and Angela  accepted.

Attention abruptly averted as attractive Arkadelphia, Arkansas administrative assistant, Abby Anderson, announced acceptance of all alliteration assignments.

Absorbed, Andrew amused aloud,  “Adios amigos!”

Attitude adjusted, Austin added, “Arrivederci!”

“Adorable!” Angela applauded. “Absolutely adorable!”


mwt

Pardon My Alliteration: L

July 25th, 2009 Comments off


                                                                      Little Lannie 


                        Lewis and Levette looked lovingly at Lannie, Lou’s likeness.

                       “Lovely, Levette, lovely!”

                       “Lots of labor, Lou”,  Levette lamented limply.

                       “Livegiving labor, Levette.”

                         Levette’s lilac lingerie lay loosely.

                         Lou leaned to Levette’s lips.

                        “Look out Lou, Lannie!”

                         Lou laughed loudly, lifting Lannie’s little legs.

                        “A longshoreman, Levette!”

                         Levette laughed and laid lannie in the layette, leaving a Lacy layer of

                          lilac and lime loincloth.

                         “Lullaby, little longshoreman.” Lou lauded lovingly.

                          Levette and lou lounged lazily, listening to lusty lyrics of love

                          and longing.

                          Lou lavished lotion on Levette’s lean and lengthy legs.

                          “It’s late, Lou.”

                           Lou lingered, looking at little Lannie.

                          “Langston Lamont Lewis, lovely!”


MWT Searching for the Right word, 1988

Pardon My Alliteration: D

June 2nd, 2009 Comments off


              “Done deal Dennis,”  Donna decided.

               “Disco dancing during ‘Dallas Declaration Day’!”

               “Donna Darlin’,” Dennis drawled, ” Do dancers dine downstairs during

                Dallas Declaration Day?”

                “Definitely!”

                 Dennis droned: ” Darlin’, Dwight’s Ding-Dong  Decorators didn’t

                 do the dining discotheque.”

                 “Disorganized debacle, Dennis dear,”  Donna derided,  

                 “Don’t dilly-dally . . .  DECORATE!” 

                  Deflated, Dennis denounced dramatically, “Doh!”


mwt

Pardon My Alliteration: T

March 10th, 2009 Comments off

 

 

Teresa tearfully  told Thomas the total, troublesome truth.

They thought things through, then tested themselves thoroughly through tough therapy.

Totally transforming their turbulent transgressions, they triumphed.

Today they tranquilly took their two tots to the theatre, together.

Thanks, Teresa thought.

 

 

mwt

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