Old Colonial

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Colonialism denied the authenticity of one's environment — so different from the 'mother' country. I guess this was how we dealt with it.

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Throwback to the 70's when I thought I might become a poet.

 

I have no

rhythm.

Reggae I

cannot.

I learned to dance

with 

Wordsworth and

some daffodils.

 

I have no

drums.

I have no

songs.

Once I

jingled bells 

as I dashed through snow 

Yodeled with cowboys.

 

Crooned myself

into love

with Bing,

Sinatra ...... 

 

What a foolishness?

++++++++++

P.S. When I learned the Wordsworth poem about golden daffodils, fluttering and dancing in the breeze, I was quite young and had no idea what daffodils were. (Perhaps the teacher didn't either.)

My mother reared ducks and I loved the sight of the fluffy young ducklings . I have no idea why she called them 'dil-dils'.  That was the picture I had in my imagination – dancing with a brood of fluffy, yellow ducklings. My interpretation made complete sense, even if that was not the poet's vision.

Colonialism denied the authenticity of one's environment — so different from the 'mother' country. I guess this was how we dealt with it.

 

Image result for daffodils

 

This is the first verse of the poem by

William Wordswoth ...

"I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze." 

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