Involuntary word games

I have been working pretty hard at my scary heap of no-fun work recently, often staying til 6.30 or 7. (Which is still late, even if you never seem to make it into the office til 9.15, even though you live about four minutes from it… Ahem.)

On the other hand, sometimes concentrating is a challenge. I had a very busy day on Friday, what with the scary heap, plus several things to look over all at the last minute. However, at some point, the following thought popped, almost entirely fully formed, into my head:

“Oooh,
last,
lest,
list,
lost, and
lust
are all words!”

Two or three minutes of rapid mental-scrabble-tile-shuffling later I had concluded that sets of four-letter words where there is an actual word for each vowel are really quite rare. (Or I am not very good at thinking of them, but I choose not to believe in that possibility.) Plenty of three-word sets, a few more tantalising fours, but no more fives.

I like the set above very much, as all of the words have a certain quality of melancholy, or regret, or longing. Especially if you think of ‘list’ as being what a ship does when its leaning over in a storm at sea—which I did, before I remembered it was also what you take to the supermarket.

I managed to wrench my brain back to my editing, though a part of it kept picking up letters and putting them down again. I did come up with just one more set:

mare
mere
mire
more
mure

Which I also quite like. I may have cheated as I had to look up mure to check it is a word, but on the other hand it is a very good word. Not only is it an archaic word for a wall, but it also (courtesy of Webster’s via dictionary.com) means:

\Mure\, v. t. [imp. & p. p. Mured.] [F. murer, L. murare. See Mure, n.] To inclose in walls; to wall; to immure; to shut up. --Spenser.

The five kings are mured in a cave. --John. x. (Heading).

So obviously I had lurid visions of slaves and sacrifices and wronged heroes and tragic maidens, immured alive. It’s very distracting, having my brain.