This is not about Who I love. This is about What I love.
And I tell you – I love words, the spoken ones too, but here I speak about the written words. How used how not. The pictures they create in my mind, and the chains of thought. The craft of putting one before the other, or something amiss with the whole structure, making me frown. Thinking, could this have been better? And then re-writing the sentence, anew. Leaning back to read those words strung together again. A smile on my face reflective of a satisfied mind, or the pencil scratching my head – this doesn’t look right!
Words. The games they play, and the games we play with them.
And when you say ‘Ode’ on a day that stands for love, I think of 2 written long back. No, not by me, dear me! But by two poets who mastered their words – in ivory towers or sitting under trees. Even in the busiest of streets. Scribbled or typed, but always streams of thought, put in a language such that not a word I would dare change. Here’s them odes that I often go back to, and if you ask me why, I myself know not. Perhaps because these two odes rest unblemished by popularity.
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[This post is written for the WordPress Daily Prompts : 365 Writing Prompts program. The author, Sakshi Nanda stays somewhere ‘Between Write and Wrong‘]