Out for a walk to the store, we were headed home when I wondered, aloud….
Me: It’s F today.
Tim: You realize I’m not picking easy words.
Me: Yeah, I totally got that.
Moira: Mom’s quick on the uptake, dad.
Tim: It has to do with fertility. I remember it in biology. It also has something to do with fish.
Me: Well, if it’s about fish, I’d be all over that–
Tim: I remember something about fish….
Well, that might have been a function of the biology class he took in college, but the definition of FECUNDITY is this:
In demography, fecundity is the potential reproductive capacity of an individual or population. In biology, the definition is more equivalent to fertility, or the actual reproductive rate of an organism or population, measured by the number of gametes (eggs), seed set, or asexual propagules. This difference is because demography considers human fecundity which is often intentionally limited, while biology assumes that organisms do not limit fertility. Fecundity is under both genetic and environmental control, and is the major measure of fitness. Fecundation is another term for fertilization. Superfecundity refers to an organism’s ability to store another organism’s sperm (after copulation) and fertilize its own eggs from that store after a period of time, essentially making it appear as though fertilization occurred without sperm (i.e. parthenogenesis)
Those of you who don’t know my husband should know … this is about as racy as he gets. Those of you who know my husband are nodding sagely.
But, I digress….
Poetry form? Acrostic. That is, defined by the University of Chicago, a poem, sometimes called a name poem, uses a word for its subject. Then each line of the poem begins with a letter from the subject word. This type of poetry doesn’t have to rhyme.
No rhyming? Just make sure the beginning letters spell out the word and fill in the gaps? Well, how hard can it be? (please feel free to say that last bit in Jeremy Clarkson’s voice)…
Fevered fall of all biology, from time immemorial it would seem
Every beast that scurried or crawled, that lived among cacophony
Counts among its many members, mother, father, and what’s more,
Uncles, aunties, sisters, cousins, clasped by threads as fine as silk.
Never did I e’re realize, nor ever had I dreamed, that
Darwin’s net was cast so wide, to trap the world so wantonly.
It girds the Earth and plumbs the sea, with nary a tear or apology
This woven web of choice and chance that sometimes seems a tuneless dance, and
Yet details hide the Devil, possibly, ‘tis mere potential suggests our progeny.
Happy “F” Day! Tomorrow is G!