Idioms

He spoke idioms that made me smile.  

Heavy rain would ‘drench you to the skin’.

A severe wind would ‘clean corn’.

He pronounced ‘clean’ as ‘clane’.

Or if someone added fuel to the fire of a fight

He’d shrug, ‘Skitter flies high when hit with a stick.’

And if you told a good story, he’d chuckle,

‘That one’s worth putting up on top of the dresser.’

His soft-hearted wife would ‘cry for the ducks going barefoot’.

It’s not that he had a knapsack of clichés.

It’s that he thought it all worth saying.

It was his heart’s desire to say something

That rattled the word chest and gave

language a dunt with the elbow of his tongue.

‘Dullness wasn’t worth the full of your arse

of boiled snow.’ Because he wanted you to listen.