Friday 6 November 2009

Hello Sid and Maureen, this is for ewes/ yous/ you!

An Ode to English Plurals

We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never be meese.
You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice,
Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.

If the plural of man is always called men,
Why shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen?
If I speak of my foot and show you my feet,
And I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and three would be those,
Yet hat in the plural would never be hose,
And the plural of cat is cats, not cose.
We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
But though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine: she, shis and shim!

Let's face it - English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger;
Neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren't invented in England.
We take English for granted, but if we explore its paradoxes,
We find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square,
And a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing,
Grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham?
Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend.
If you have a bunch of odds and ends and
Get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
Sometimes I think all the folks who grew up speaking English
Should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.

In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?
We ship by truck but send cargo by ship.
We have noses that run and feet that smell.
We park in a driveway and drive in a parkway.
And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same,
While a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language
In which your house can burn up as it burns down,
In which you fill in a form by filling it out, and
In which an alarm goes off by going on.

And in closing, if Father is Pop, how come Mother's not Mop?

3 comments:

Vivienne said...

Hi Maureen and Sid,

I keep checking in too, so we're three sad people together!

After checking the blogs tonight I looked in my inbox and found 16 new forwarded messages from a friend. I'm tempted to ask her to stop sending forwarded mail as I don't have time to view everything she sends. It's really frustrating when it's mail she's already sent me, and she thinks I may like to view it again! No I don't wish to receive it again as I will have kept the original if it's worth saving!

Tonight I skimmed down the subject matter to find something of interest to post here, and wasn't disappointed. After reading your comments about checking the blog I had to respond with a new posting!

(I've three other friends who also send me loads of forwarded mail. However, I make a point of reading the forwarded messages from friends who carefully select one or two messages to forward. So don't be put off by my comments. I've valued and appreciated all the mail I've received from my blogger friends.)

Night, night,
Lots of love,
Vivienne xxx

Sid said...

That was a lovely surprise this morning Vivienne. And the words are oh so true. No wonder English is such a difficult language to learn....even without the Geordie input.

Maureen said...

I know just what you mean Vivienne, sometimes among the dross you find that little gem, and this is one of them! I'll be passing this one to our family in Canada who often us the English language differently to us, sometimes with amusing results. Really enjoyed it, thanks.