Silent Letters/ Vane

Dear learner, welcome, stay awhile, Let’s traverse English’s treacherous style. Where letters hide, in plain disguise, Silent sentinels defying the wise. Knife and knight, with muted "k"s, A relic of long-forgotten days. Know and knee, kneel and knack, The "k" retreats, it won’t come back. Silent "w" in write and wrong, A phantom sound, gone for so long. Wrestle, wreath, and wrist conspire, To twist the tongue, but not the lyre. The "b" in thumb, subtle, dumb, Muffled, trapped, and overcome. Lamb and climb, their "b"s erased, Yet meanings linger, firmly placed. Sword’s "w," quiet as a sigh, Gently passes the word by. Two and who, whole and wry, Words where "w" takes leave to lie. The ghostly "h" in ghost and hour, A silent heir of shifting power. Honor, honest, herb, and heir, Hushed, yet holding meanings rare. Subtle "c" in scissors and muscle, Cuts through words without a rustle. Scene and scent, with quiet grace, Their "c"s erase their sounding space. Gnat and gnash, gnome and gnarl, The "g" lies still, a speechless snarl. Design, resign, aligned and reign, A silent "g" it must contain. Debt and doubt, where "b" is shy, Once pronounced, now left to die. Subtle relics of Latin's way, In modern speech, they’ve had their day. Castle’s "t"—don’t let it trouble, In bustling hustle, it stays subtle. Whistle, soften, and listen too, Where "t" retreats, as sounds construe. Silent "p" in psychic, psalm, Pterodactyl’s prehistoric calm. Pneumonia, receipt, and coup, The "p" bows out without ado. The "l" in calf and half stays low, In yolk and folk, it dares not show. Salmon swims without its "l," Calm as it avoids the spell. Silent "u" in guess and guilt, A quiet watcher as words are built. Guide and guitar, where "u" won’t shine, Yet it holds the word’s design. The "e" in love, give, and dove, Silent helper, meanings to shove. In breathe, it lengthens the sound so fine, Yet in breath, it leaves no sign. Now queue, where four letters hide, Behind the "q" they must abide. Rogue and vogue, where "ue" stays, Silent through the English maze. A silent "h" in shepherd’s care, In rhymes with leopard, both quite rare. Echo, chaos, character too, The "h" is heard, but not in lieu. Silent "g" in reign and gnaw, Leaves behind its ancient claw. Gnome and sign, foreign and gnash, Where the "g" retreats in hush to clash. Cupboard’s "p," a phantom trace, Silent as it takes its place. The "s" in isle, debris, and corps, A silent sentinel, nothing more. Words like ballet, bouquet, chalet, Borrowed beauty, the "t" won’t play. Rapport, depot, croquet, coup, The silent "t" again bids adieu. Listen close to heir and air, Both sound the same, though spellings snare. Silent "k" in knack, knee, knave, In knoll, it lingers by the grave. The "d" in Wednesday fades away, A ghost of speech from yesterday. Handkerchief hides its "d," we see, Though in hand, it ought to be. Worcester, Leicester, Gloucester—all, Drop sounds like leaves in autumn’s fall. Climber’s "b" won’t dare to call, In its shadow, meanings stall. Now ponder hiccough—does it rhyme? Its “ough” shifts through place and time. Through, though, bough, cough, plough, and tough, Each distinct—yet all quite rough. Silent "n" in hymn and solemn, Hides its notes in songs unspoken. Autumn keeps its "n" inside, A quiet mark of changing tide. And let us end with a silent "t," In ballet’s grace or gourmet’s treat. A letter, still, yet lending weight, To English words and their debate. So tread this maze with patient care, Silent letters everywhere. Master these phantoms in disguise, And claim the prize of wise replies!