words are intriguing....or is it our intriguing imagination that make words seem intriguing...

Do you want to know what my favourite thing is?

Do you want to know what I like the best?

Words.
Yes. You read that right.

No need to make an appointment with the optician. You don’t have to spend an hour with a psychiatrist. You aren’t going insane!

Yes, I said "words".
So tell your shrink to grow a little and your optometrist to open his eyes, because my guilty secret is out!

I can hide it no longer!

I know there will be much astonishment and many flabbergasted expressions, but this is a catastrophe that I must face…

Right after I revel in my amused reaction to the word “flabbergasted.” Goodness gracious. I want to meet whoever it was that came up with that one. Just have some tea and crumpets for an hour or so. Imagine our conversation! Is that one lump of silly slang, Sir, or two?


I could just go on forever about the awesome magnificence that is “words.” Whether we form them in CAPS or slant the letters to one side or place a line beneath them or brackets [around] them, we can only love each and every word that is scribbled down on paper or expelled into the air on the breath of conversation!

Can you understand it now?
Grasp it?

I'm not so sure. I can see you struggling in the waters of comprehension.

Shall I throw you a line and reel you in? Let’s.

There are all kinds of categories for all kinds of words, you know. Pay attention! I am going to give you a few.

Some words are short.
Some words are rather gargantuan and lengthy in size.
Some are perspicaciously intelligent.
Others are sort a’ dumb.

Words are often pleasantly poetic but also raucously discordant.

Oh, I think I felt a nibble.



I am going to let you in on another secret.

Come closer so I can whisper it into your ear.

You know which words I like the best?

English words.

Uh-oh. We think I scared the fish away with that one.

I’ll have to try some different bait. Really!

Come and contemplate this with me.

In what other language but English can a knight sleep in the night?
Or fight a bear with his bare hands?
Where he can wear not just one sword if he chooses to but two too?

You’re scratching your head. But we can’t stop now!

I must continue to write this with my right hand.
Wait, I am wrong.
No, the right hand is right, right?

Speaking of “wrong,” I have just been bothered with thoughts of words that are wrought with letters that refuse to speak. They are as silent as though they were taught by mimes. Not tot mind you, but taught.

Oh! We caught a big one! A 150 pounder at least. Give or take a few ounces. Or is it oz.? Maybe the wicked witch will tell us which one? I thought this was Kansas but perhaps I am mistaken.

I am quite pleased with myself just now. I am finally opening up to the world. Giving it a glimpse of the glamorous goings-on of my magnificent mind. I hope the world is ready for me.

I wouldn’t want to frighten anyone. I know how very comfortable people are when they are lounging in their comfort zone. I want to tell you not to be scared!

I’ll be loud so you can hear me coming. I promise. Scout’s honor. Honour too.

What? Some people are just so picky. They absolutely must have the right colour. The left one just won’t do. Trust me. I know.

I cut the knot with the knife while kneeling on my knees, but the “k” will never tell.

The fish is starting to jump around in the bucket. I think this is all just too much for my fans to absorb.

Now I feel as unnecessary as the “p” in “coup.” No amount of wishing will make it rhyme with soup.

I’ll have to throw it back. My apologies. Perhaps a drought will save you from drowning.

But only if you spell it write.


Intrigued....