By Any Other Name

By G. E. Shuman

I think a lot of sounds of words;

Of why I like some I have heard.

And wonder from where those sounds came,

When calling something by a name.

William Shakespeare, Bard of old

Is often quoted, it is told,

That a red rose would smell the same

If called by any other name.

But I do doubt it, as I write

That dawn would sparkle, if called night.

That big blue oceans would be fond

Of someone calling them just ponds.

And what of names of babies, new?

While parents, pondering what to do,

Pronounce their new sweet daughter, 'Myrtle'...

A name best suited for a turtle.

Words frame feelings, I have found,

As through our brains they swirl around.

Nice names sound sweeter when we say them

And bring us joy when we display them.

Some just fit well; and show some wit.

While others make us cringe a bit

When tied to something that we ponder

As a rash choice, or thoughtless blunder.

Petunia, a pretty sound, somehow...

To call a flower, or even a sow.

It may be the name of your pet razor-back,

But then try it on a huge quarter-back.

And there are even names for food;

Business ones that set a mood

“Joe's Spaghetti” may be pedantic,

But “Olive Garden” is more romantic.

Yes, old Shakespeare would shake his head

At my dispute of what he said.

That the red rose would smell the same

If called by any other name.

Still, I contend, our thoughts are rounded

And finished when a word is sounded.

If rose was known as squash or beet

Somehow, it wouldn't seem so sweet.