TURNING 89

by Jim Freund

Well, as of today I’m eighty-nine,

and groping for some sort of sign

to suitably define

this latest juncture of mine.

I’m sure it’s not a finish line,

but could it be a borderline?

or even worse, the bottom line?

Should I feel morose, even saturnine,

and sprinkle on some iodine –

or greet a soothing anodyne?

Do I qualify as Frankenstein,

Or just a gentler Gertrude Stein?

What’s clear to me about this age,

Is that it’s complex, almost Byzantine –

which makes me queasy to opine.

So here’s my cop-out:

I’ll offer up four score and nine

words that rhyme with eighty-nine.

Hey, no need to mutter and whine,

You’ve already heard a fifth of them

that deftly toe the line.

And speaking of “line”, here’s something I’ve learned:

A majority of multi-syllable words that rhyme with eighty-nine

end in the word “line”.

So let’s get a bunch of them out of the way first,

starting with those of three syllables,

the bulk of which are composed of two words, such as:

chorus line, picket line, waiting line,

and that robust German fortification, the Siegfried line.

Although some two-syllable entrants,

such as punch line and bus line

require two words, many are contained in just one, like

decline, deadline, hairline, headline, lifeline, neckline, yardline –

and the one I hear about most often from Barbara, waistline.

Four syllables also partake here, such as

assembly line, opening line, above the line

and that not-so-robust French fortification, the Maginot Line.

At five syllables, we get demarcation line and unemployment line.

Six isn’t too productive – I’d welcome suggestions –

But seven produces – voila! – the International date line.

Okay, that’s enough about stuff ending in “line” –

Let’s look at three-syllable candidates that use a different rhyme:

like intertwine, turpentine, and reassign,

and my three unrelated favorites –

asinine, concubine, and Kevin Kline.

Two syllables produce grapevine and supine.

Four syllables, percentage sign;

Five syllables, California wine, and

Six syllables – I’ll give a wave here to my sister-in-law Marjorie – interior design.

I like words that convey an affirmative sense,

such as punchline;

I don’t much like  those painting a negative picture,

like salt mine.

So, here are some positives, in one, two and three syllables:

fine and dine;

align, divine, refine, benign, enshrine, streamline and guideline;

realign, finish line, hold the line,

and docusign (provided you’re receiving something with a dollar sign).

As far as enumerating a host of negatives,

such as supine and malign,

I think I’ll decline.

A number of the rhymes end in “sign” –

like assign, consign, resign, and countersign,

“Shine” is also a popular rhyme, as in

sunshine, moonshine, shoeshine, and outshine.

 The “i-n-e” part of the ending is occasionally spelled “i-g-n”

as in align, and benign,

And there’s at least one “y-n-e”,

as in that source of comfort I mentioned earlier, anodyne.

And Barbara dear, let me highlight for you the words relating to animals,

such as canine, feline, equine, swine,

porcupine, serpentine and monkeyshine.

Well, that’s 80 rhymes for eighty-nine –

We need nine more

No problem: how about

Spine, vine, brine, recline, Levine

(no, wait a minute, that’s pronounced “Le-veen” and doesn’t count)

entwine, timberline, disincline, knotty pine,

and a word commonly thought to refer

to the prong of a fork,

but in our family, it’s the nickname

dubbed on baby Barbara years ago by her big sister – Tine.

Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?

Nor was last year,

when I tried the same gimmick on age eighty-eight.

I didn’t have to pontificate,

It was easy to illuminate,

And sometimes even to titillate.

But next year – aye, there’s the rub.

Rhymes for ninety don’t readily spring to mind.

I’ll have to rely on a lot of adverbs

ending in l-y

like finely (not “finally”)

and divinely;

And I’ll probably have to explain some

unlikely pairings,

like brine-tea, where you dunk the tea bag in salt water;

and shrine-free, which is a visit to Kyoto where

you’ve agreed with your wife to stick to sushi and not

hit any of the local temples;

and wine-spree – oh, hell, you can figure that one out!

Anyway, I pledge that at one year from today,

I’ll find thee at ninety . . . .