For day five of NAPOWRIMO I have sort of followed the optional prompt. At least the optional prompt got me started on the poem for today.
A foreign language? Middle English is
for some. The vowels are weird and you pronounce
each letter as it’s written down. Take “could”
and try pronouncing it KO-OO-L-D
and see if anyone can understand
what you have said. They could of course if you
would read it could. And “would” no longer sounds
like wood in Middle English. Then, of course,
there is my favorite, “love” or is it LOO-va?
Tell someone, “You are the LOO-va of my life.”
and see if it will get you anywhere.
I could be wrong so don’t rely
on me. I’m not an expert, just a fan.
“Whan that Aprille with his shoures sote”
(and don’t’ forget to use a Scottish R)
is how the story starts that Chaucer tells.
You hear the cadence, hear the rhythm? You
don’t even have to understand the words.
Pretend you’re sitting in your favorite bar.
The music’s cranked so loud the words are lost,
and there is just the beat that shakes your soul.
Well Middle English may not shake your soul,
but listen to the musicality.
And even when the meaning isn’t clear,
the sound, the rhythm, and the beat remain.