I would talk of curtains of blue,
And talk of clouds of rain,
Or the cold of the snow.
*
But I don’t want to give,
English teachers the pleasure,
Of deciphering my work.
*
By the poem what am I saying,
Is it I’m melancholy or,
Just trying to play around.
*
Do your higher English on this,
And try and find where I am,
When I penned this one.
As a retired English teacher, I will not venture a guess as to where you were when you wrote this! LOL
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When in academy we spent a couple of days analysing Aunt Julia by Norman MacCaig… We were supposed to deduce his feelings by the connotations and implications of the words he used without referring to the words directly. When I asked “What if he used a word because it was just a word.” I got the reply “No word is used without reason.”
Since then, I despise the idea of being able to interpret more meaning into what the author had written by the slight nuances in the words chosen. The curtains were probably blue, because the curtains were blue… Nothing to do with the author’s mood. 😆
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