Amuse-bouche:
You’re up here. You’re a peer. You’re a pee-er. You’re a pier. Your up ear. Europe here. You, rapier. Yewr, appear. Ewe Rup here.
Today’s Wonderful Word: “homophone.”
Definition: each of two or more words having the same pronunciation but different meanings, origins, or spelling.
Examples: “new” and “knew,” “compliment” and “complement.”
Don’t forget to check out the answer to Saturday’s riddle! It may be startling.
Let me tell you a tale about a great knight in shining steal armor. Steel yourself for this one because it’s a wild ride.
A poor young man sat in his four-by-four cell, smelling the scent of his favorite spring flower drifting through the cracks around the door. I’ll be out of here in an hour, he thought. He wasn’t allowed to think aloud, so he kept his thoughts to himself. That’s right. My soul will finally be free. Free from idle thoughts.
His last night in prison came to an end. Sunrise was moments away. He could almost see the first light of day.
I hear something. Footsteps came down the hall and echoed through the cell grate.
“Hey!” It was the guard. “Stand up!” he said. “I’ve got some jobs for you.”
Of course. Some work right before I leave. Work is all I know.
“Pour this dye in this bucket. When you’re done, haul the weight in there. They’re not going to wait for your heel to heal.”
“Fine,” the prisoner said.
“Excuse me? I’m gonna role this die two times, and if the sum is greater than six, you’ll write ‘Yes, sir’ a hundred times.”
“No.” The prisoner grabbed a knot in the rope he made from his rat tail collection. “Tell the maid I’m sorry.”
The prisoner had to know he would pay his fare, yet he won up his courage and rapped the guard’s knuckles with the rope. The guard dropped the bucket, causing dye to splash into his eye. He wrapped his stinging knuckles in cloth, and then he wiped his face, too.
The prisoner ran and screamed, “I dream that my son and I will sell flour near the sea! We’ll never hit the brake. We’ll be the sole survivors, and we’ll break records selling an ounce a cent under the sun whether the weather is fair or foul. Our main competition will be nothing but fowl, destined to be defeated by their flour-selling idol. Me.”
The prisoner escaped and gathered his armor and returned to his son. This was a tale of a great knight. It was a tale containing many homophones.
Answer to Saturday’s riddle:
Startling
A+
Ça vous dit quelque chose ? 
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