The GWAWDODYN (gwow-dahd-in) is a Welsh poetry form. The name is about as awkward as a flamingo wearing a kilt, but the rules made it sound like a limerick in disguise. It is not. Each quatrain contains two rhymes; the A rhyme occurs at the ends of lines 1, 2, and 4, and the B rhyme is all in line 3, at the end and embedded somewhere (anywhere!) in the middle. The strict syllabic requirement (9-9-10-9) defies the use of triads, which keeps the lines from waltzing along the way a limerick does. A morning spent attempting to hammer it into my preconceived mold led to nothing but frustration. Grouchily, I tossed it aside.
At noontime, as I lifted a ripening avocado off the counter, the first
line came to me. Avocados, as you know, are the crown jewels of the produce department and I buy one every week regardless of the price. When it blackens a bit and yields to a gentle press, I pile some Garden of Eatin’ blue corn tortilla chips on a plate and turn that bad boy into the most sublime lunch known to (wo)man:
Avocado, soft beneath my thumb
mashed with lime and salt you shall become
a heavenly dip for earth’s corniest chips
Guacamole, to you, I succumb
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Well, it looks like you cracked that unpronounceable poetry form here. Clearly, you are passionate about Avocados. Reminds me of my childhood where we were surrounded by huge avocado trees and the fruit were just there for the taking. Nowadays we look out for the man who parks on the side of the road selling the varieties I remember as child – much cheaper than the supermarket. Definitely a family favourite. Well done on cracking another form and romancing the ordinary Joan!
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I had to practice that word a few times, as if it were a foreign language lesson. Oh, that I could have an avocado tree of my very own! But they don’t flourish in Ohio and living in the south would not agree with me, I’m afraid. Varieties? We have only two here, the palm-sized California and the lesser-known and much larger Florida, probably the ones that hold up best in shipping. On a trip to Thailand years ago, we ate a dessert topped with mango, ripe from the tree. It was a revelation, juicy and sweet-tangy, not at all like the imported mangoes we get here. Food is among the most compelling reasons to travel, I think. My travel logs would have no art museums or architecture, just food porn. 🙂
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Welsh, with a hint of Spanish–quite an exotic poem. Leaves me feeling hungry, too.
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Gwaw-dahd-in is the squishy-squashy sound the fork makes when you mash up the avocado! I hated guacamole the first time I tried it–our high school Spanish teacher said we couldn’t have any nacho chips at the class party unless we tried the green glop in the bowl. I don’t remember exactly when I changed my mind; it was like the “soapy” taste of cilantro that grew on me as my taste buds matured, I guess. 🙂
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Avocados and guacamole are “slime” food. Any slime food takes a bit of getting used to. It’s probably a mental thing.
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I think my childish taste buds were just to immature too appreciate it. The teacher was probably glad no one liked it because she got the whole bowl to herself. 🙂
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Good job Joan.
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Thanks, Joyce. Short and sweet and guaranteed to resonate with guacamole lovers everywhere. 🙂
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Ooooooh, I love avocados! Your poem ain’t too bad either! Ha, ha!
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Thanks, Marissa. Are there people who DON’T love avocados? 🙂
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That’s a good question!
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What shall I say except give you praise for turning the prepaation of an avocado into a skillfully craft gwawdodyn?! Well done, Joan!
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Thanks, Peter. Maybe I should do a book of food poetry?
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Correction: prepaation is not an ancient form of poetry,but just a typo. Haha!
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Darn! I can use as many new poetry forms as I can get! 🙂
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Fabulous, Joan! “A heavenly dip for earth’s corniest chips” do I even need to tell you how much I love guacamole? I can just taste this, and yes, it is the most sublime lunch known to woman!
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Thanks, Lana. It is my all-time favorite lunch–no soup, sandwich, salad, pasta, etc, can outdo it. And avocados have only GOOD fat. That’s something to smile about. 🙂
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Most definitely! 😀
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They say ambrosia is the food of the gods, but I think they meant guacamole. 😀 Great poem!
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Thanks, Noel! Yeah, it was probably a typo. Or autocorrect. 🙂
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Haha I would also like to call this “Ode to Guacamole” lol Great form Joan!
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Thanks, KE. I guess that would make it a GWAWD-“ODE”-YN? Two great forms that taste great together! 🙂
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Thanks for the poetry lesson. I’m not a poet but like to learn the different styles. I give this one a try.
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Thanks for the read and comment, LTodd! And I’m always happy when people are inspired to write their own poetry. I enjoy your travel posts, btw, you guys are always on the move. 🙂
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Gwaw, ha ha! That one tickled me. And now I’m hungry…
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Hey, KT! Long time since I’ve seen your face around these parts! I have no idea how this word translates from Welsh to English… Maybe gwaw = joke, and dodyn = practical? It felt that way when I was trying to write one! 🙂
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“a heavenly dip for earth’s corniest chips”
What a fun(ny) line! Corny and heavenly, hand-in-hand at last. 😄
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Thanks, Quirky. I meant “corniest” in its most flattering sense. Is there a higher compliment for a tortilla chip? Hey, maybe this could be a lunch idea for your kids… slimy and green, no classmate is gonna trade his Funyuns for that! 🙂
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Actually, slimy and green tends to have high appeal among kids. Especially boys. 😝
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Eating? Or throwing at each other? 🙂
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Most likely for throwing, of course! 😄
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