He comes with a murmur of dream in his wings;
(Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
And whispers of mermaids and wonderful things.
(So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)
Lines from Sir Charles G. D. Roberts.
I'm not into mermaids. Murmuring or whispering, wonderful or singing.
I was never even a very big fan of Sir Charles "Gawdam' Roberts.
But these lines cast a spell.
Sound tunnels time tunnels
ri ri ripples
Macaroni. Cucumber. Mud. Words. Music.
"Mummy. I can talk and sing at the same time. Singtalk. Like a poem."
Child was five then-- my curly-headed ever questioning singtalk boy.
Why is blue called blue and not red? (Hush-a-bye, hush..)
Tweets/ facebook posts/ whispers?
So many mermaids and mermen. Trying to sing. Singtalkin'.
Not all or always wonderful things. Wonder filled. So much. Too much? ( Are we weary, my dearie?)
Ever Wonder: what words will linger, haunt and sway?