I sometimes start a blog on one theme and for some reason meander off in a completely different direction. Like a river meanders randomly, curving one way then the other.
Curving frequently, tributaries joining,
Increasing the flow, sinuous,
Like a snake, swallowing its own tail,
In places becoming, forming through sediment,
A famed oxbow lake, a tiny part of the whole, trapped and landlocked.
When it reaches the sea all its strength is dissipated.
Numerous streams wander a delta down to the water.
Seagulls trim their wings
And fly fiercely overhead.
My story meanders again,
As a gull steals my chips ……
I started at point A, wove around and ended at point B. Strange how like a journey we can be transported by words, drift along into a story or a song… .
I was out at the pub tonight at our local folk bands monthly visit. They usually play till about 10pm then they go round the room asking whether you want to sing a song or read out a pot!!
Well it was getting towards me. I was going to sing Laras song from Dr Jivago? I looked up the Lyrics. It seemed OK. Just sing and remember. I started, and ground to a halt. I could not remember the music or the song. Next time I will try and sing again. But tonight was bad….
the confusion of words, such as The two Ronnies sketch: four candles or fork handles…..a poem.
Can you hear the difference?
Fork….or Four…Candles…or handles….
See the word, unheard, the difference.
Imagine a fork shaped candle?
Or four spade handles…
Words change, morph, but stay the same.
Homophones, it sounds like, confusion, illusion.
Playing games to gain our trust, learn the difference, yes we must.
So four is not fork and candle is not handle but together they mangle talk (not tourque).