Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor...

Illustration to ring-a-ring-a-roses in Kate Gr...

The rhyming games of children, the innocent divining the future....
Known to be darker than at once imagined--- the so-called "haunting children's rhyme".

Most divining rhymes are counted out--- the number of buttons on a dress, the number of daisy petals plucked, the number of skips a stone makes, the number of uninterrupted turns of a jump rope. "Whom shall I wed? Whom shall it be? Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor, Rich man, Poor man, Beggar man, Thief?"

Most are innocent, or intended to be innocent.....

Yet, there are those rhymes that are believed to be innocent, until the darker histories are revealed. Case in point-- "Ring around the Rosie"

Who hasn't heard the connection of this "innocent" rhyme to the Great Plague or the Black Death?? The symptoms of "rosy rings", the need of posies to cover the stench of death, the violent sneezing episodes before the falling down of the dead.....

There is such a desire from adults for children to remain "innocent", and yet, there is such a desire from these same children to grow up much quicker than they are. But, there is no way to hide all the atrocities of the world from children. The death, destruction and devastation running through their playful rhymes ring ever truer and are felt much deeper, though hidden in the ramblings of innocence.

What better way to cope with the devastating truths of the world....would that we could all "hide" our fears in the singsong, divining rhymes with which children skip rope and count buttons....

Ring around the rosie....
Pocketful of posies....
Ashes, Ashes....
We. All. Fall. Down....

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A to Z reflections....

Another A to Z challenge comes to an end--- another collection of posts and poetry have been written, another deep breath of relief is released. For my fellow bloggers that survived as well, it's another 'challenge-completed' notch carved into the writing desk. I've come to enjoy my yearly foray into the world of all things alphabetical. This was my third year, though it was only the second year I had a workable theme (which made the challenge substantially easier than the first year I attempted this challenge.) And, though my first year was difficult because my focus was so scattered, I found this year was more difficult because I lost the enthusiasm that came with the first year excitement----excitement which helped me plug along until the end of the challenge. Year 3 was a success in the sense that I completed the challenge, though, this was the year that almost wasn't---- Somewhere about a third of the way through the challenge, I seriously considered...

Bitter Honey

Weaving dreams of beguiling gold, a future's price for happiness. What secrets do you, determined, hold? asks the summer wind's soft caress. A guarded name, a hidden hope. Spinning wheels clutching time, grasping straw that falls away, What dreams may come, we soon may find, won't recall at end of day. A cherished life, a memory lost.

A million lives, beneath a single sky.....

Though our feet leave different prints,our tongues sound different words, there's a mirrored rhythm in the beating of our hearts. Though born in different worlds, our eyes sharpened 'neath different moons, there's an unspoken truth in the warmth of our touch. We may walk in different strides and dream different dreams, we may speak in different voices, maybe swim in different streams. It's plain to see, when dark night falls, as all the stars shine through, that underneath it all, there's no difference 'tween me and you.

From the Inkwell, From the Vein.....

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