Thursday, November 26, 2020

singing, crisp

 * What do you do when you cannot sleep? I sing. Supine. If I merely vocalize the words to songs all goes well. It is when I ramble off to envision what the words mean that I find myself wide eyed at the last bar. Intent upon remembering the entire gift list of the 'Twelve Days of Christmas' last night, I paused. 12 drummers drumming? What a cacophony, an eardrum splitting when combined with the 11 pipers piping. 10 lords a-leaping with 9 ladies dancing? There's going to be trouble there unless one of the lords leaves for a smoke. How large is this place anyway? Lots of activity. Do the 8 maids a-milking include farm animals? A lowing moo might fit in but what if these maids are a-milking goats or filching from the master. Almond milking would be quieter.  A-swimming swans necessitate a water feature, unless they paddle around in the punch.  Golly gee, I hope this show has been moved outside. Dinner must include an 8 geese a-laying omelet, huh? Gold rings come in a variety of sizes? As to the 4 calling birds...are they feathered creatures or '60's guys yelling at women? Get the cauldron hot for the 3 French hens. Well, at least there is the correct number of turtle doves to sidestep an altercation. Lonely partridge in the leaf denuded wintertime pear tree. Tonight I'm singin' songs in a language that is so foreign to me that I haven't a clue to the words.

* Crisp celery.

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