I discovered this word last summer memorizing a poem (“Out of the Rolling Ocean the Crowd,” by Walt Whitman) for my middle son’s wedding. I fell in love with it at first sight. I still like speaking this silken word: Rondure. Rondure. Here it is in the poem:
Behold the great rondure, the cohesion of all, how perfect.
Rondure means roundness, a gracefully rounded object, or as in the poem, the fullness or completeness of things. I just love the sound of it. I could speak it again and again. I wish I could find more ways to use it.
Observe the tomato’s rondure: utter perfection.
The rondure of the table will give us all a place to sit. (nah!)
Honey, I love your shimmering rondure. (umm, this is a family blog, sir)
See what I mean? Hard to use, but oh so lovely to say. Maybe having an opportunity to use the word regularly is a reason to memorize the poem.
