D can be Darling or Dearest or Doll,

Or for the Dollar that continues to fall.

D can be Doohickey, I have quite a few,

Or for a Doormat, welcoming you,

D can be Domicile, one of my own,

Or for the Dolt who asks for a loan,

D is for Doorway, inviting you in,

Or there’s the Doorbell, making a din,

D is for Detritus, a kind of debris,

Or it’s a Diamond, sparkling for me;

It can be a Diaper–I’ve changed quite a few,

Or can be Dreary, when a long day is through,

D can be downtrodden–think the oppressed,

Or for Doreen, in a Dazzling new dress.

D can be Daffodils, Dahlias or Daisies,

Or a  Dour spouse with the middle age crazies,

D can be Doves, or Devil’s food cake,

Or for the Ducks as they glide on the lake,

D can be Difficult; it never is easy,

D can be Dissent; it never is breezy;

D is a Diary but never a page,

D can Discern but never can gauge,

A Dirge or a Death song when someone dies,

Deceit or Deception when someone lies,

D can be Dazzling–or else it’s Drab,

Or else it’s a Dog, a big old black lab,

D is the Dynamo of the Alphabet Desk set,

While D can be damp, it never is wet,

But D goes the Distance

From Dark until Dawn,

D is the letter we all depend on.

Sandra Lee Smith

January 2009

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