It's looking a bit messy down there this time, so in thanks to everyone who gave me words to play with, I have decided not to pick a favourite answer but to post them all, with links to those who joined in and gave me such a fun day.
These could all do with tidying up, but that's the joy of trying to get three strange words into a rhyme in as short a time as possible.
Another game: Why not try and judge who all the players are, by their choice of three words, then visit them and see if you're right?
Quincunx, singularity, ubiquitous (Set by Skarr)
Quincunx, we stood protecting him who, in his singularity
Could fire the hearts of all he met with purpose and such clarity
That, though the fog of darker times, ubiquitous to those without
May rail against our kingdom, or barrage and bluster round about
Yet still within his presence not one doubt may creep or find its way
But peace prevail and purpose be, as clear as any summer’s day
Hangover, treadmill, redemption (Set by Monica C)
Last night I gazed in to your eyes and saw redemption there
From the treadmill of my sorry woes to love without a care
But this morning is embarrassing, I hurt from my hangover
And your mother when she saw you should have called you Shep, or Rover.
Horrible, short-sighted, apricot (Set by Annie)
I thought it was an apricot
How horrible that it was not
Short-sighted sillies such as me
Should wear their specs to go to tea
Crush, purse, slippery (Set by Angie)
Crush not my heart thou slippery snake
Why wouldst a man such love forsake?
Yet if you do not heed my verse
Buzz off, but fingers off my purse.
Sapphires, lavish, caprice (Set by Ella.M.)
Capriciousness, a horrid vice, is seen by those with cash
As really quite desirable and proof of being flash.
Now Mrs moneybags was not the kind to have a brat
She much preferred her figure and considered that was that
But blackmailed by her husband, that the shopping sprees might cease,
She produced a mini Moneybags, and called the kid Caprice.
The nursery was lavish and no expense was spared,
And news of every purchase was effusively declared.
Caprice had every item that a child could never want
Like a teether set with sapphires and a marble christ’ning font
And later on the best of schools, yes everything was posh
And the line to wine and dine her owned a huge amount of dosh
But, I bless her heart, I really, do for nature must come out
And, Caprice by name and nature, fell in love with Lee the lout
A builder’s mate from Hartlepool – her parents cut them off
And now if you should see her, there’s no telling she’s a toff
But a mother in a council house (in Leeds, I think you’ll find)
At least, that is, until the day caprice will change her mind.
Occupational, dawn, scourge (Set by Star)
Whether occupational or simply recreational,
Hazards are the scourge of ever day
But lawyers would encourage us to go to court and make a fuss
Of everything, from dawn to dusk – no way!
Borneo, Cadillac, ketchup (Set by Kenju)
There is an ape in Borneo, that owns a Cadillac
He stole it from the Sultan of Brunei
By spoiling it with ketchup and then dragging it away,
But the rains will make it rusty, by and by.
Luscious, MSN, squiggle (Set by Doris)
If I should flirt with luscious men
They’d have to be poetic
And like to chat in MSN
And not be too pathetic
Nor overuse emoticons
Although it makes me giggle
That I’ve never used the roll of film
(Two brackets and a squiggle.)
Relinquish, morphic, sultanas (Set by Ally)
I met a lonely scientist, a lovely thoughtful man
The Universal Quantum Field, his joy.
He revered the holy holons and his morphic units too
And I thought of him as quite a charming boy.
His soul was young with passion though his body fell to age
Still I’d listen to him postulate for hours,
I’d relinquish every minute to observe and so to learn
His fascination for the unseen powers
One day I felt emboldened and I happened to remark
That the auric field must also, then, be fact
He looked at me with horror, with his disappointment plain
And corrected me with very little tact.
I’d lost my student status, he no longer saw a mind
That was fit to hold the treasures of his head
He started then to wonder, with his other rusty parts
If I might be hanging out for sex, instead.
He gently and quite shyly then suggested that we could
Go up the stairs for more experiment
He assured me he had had the snip, was clean and very safe
And would do his best recalling where things went,
But whether he had seedless grapes was not the issue here
It simply wasn’t my idea of fun.
I ended our relationship and ran away in fear
Before his old sultanas saw the sun.
Angels, blogging, antidisestablishmentarianism (Set by Pol)
What fancy thrills and wonderment,
I’ve matched the rhythm
You are no angel, me no bard
The bastard word was bleeping hard
Though rough, tis done, and you may scoff
But as for me, I’m blogging off.
P.S. Milt - mine too! Justice - Tennyson - thanks for sending me off on that learning curve.