Save-A-Word Saturday (19)

Save-a-Word Saturday

The rules run thusly:

1. Create a lovely blog post that links back to this one. The easiest way to do that would be to grab the code under our pretty Save-a-Word Saturday button. Just copy and paste it into the HTML part of your blog.

2. Pick an old word you want to save from extinction to feature in your blog post. It really must be an old word, not just a big one. We are trying to save lovely archaisms, not ugly giants (for example, “Dihydrogen Monoxide” is not an acceptable choice). Luciferous Logolepsy is a great database of lovely words if you’re having trouble coming up with something on your own.

3. Provide a definition of your word. Use your word in a sentence (or even a short paragraph) vaguely related to the theme we have chosen this week. You may also add visual or musical interpretations of your word or your sentence. In fact, add anything that moves your creative spirit.

4. Add your post to the linky list below (it’s down there somewhere). Then hop to as many other blogs as you can in search of as many wonderful words as possible!

5. Use as many of the words as you can on the people in your life. Do leave us a note or add something to your own post to let us all know what wonderful old word you whipped out to befuddle your friends and relations.

This week’s theme is:
Porch Swings

And the word of the day is…

solennial
adj
1623 -1656
occurring once a year; annual

Forehead pressed against the mesh screen of the front door, she closed her eyes and listened to the fragmented creaking of the porch swings. Hark on one, Dorn on the other, each swinging in perfect rhythm, one back and one forward, over and over again. They were waiting for the solennial darkness, the moment when the entire world went black and every secret was safely freed, if only for the briefest sliver of time.

The hour drew closer, and the swings slowed. She kept her eyes closed, already prepared for the blindness that would soon swallow them all. Silence overtook the evening air as the two swings stopped, and she inhaled slowly, tuned for the change.

She could sense the darkness fall across the thin shields of her eyelids. She held her breath, listening.

The softest of creaks, the softest swinging of a forgotten seat. Steps on the hollow boards of the porch, followed by the gentle intake of surprised breath.

She smiled, and stepped quietly away from the door.

Photo From: http://www.flickr.com/photos/traveling9to5/8850991438/

3 Responses so far.

  1. T. Drecker says:
    Lovely! I read it twice just for fun 🙂
  2. Deshipley says:
    "Solennial" has a niftier ring to it than "annual". ^.^
  3. Very poetic scene depicted here. Nice. Writer’s Mark

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