Inspired by Andrew’s rediscovery of the thoroughly excellent archaic word “merlimewes“, and taking a friend’s suggestion to incorporate into a limerick with a rhyme on “curlicues”, I present the following:
There once was a lady from Boston,
a city she often got lost in.
She made so many merlimewes
it put her hair in curlicues,
so none stopped for the walk she crossed in!
What, I’m an engineer, not a poet. Points for effort, right? Bonus points for pedestrian-squishing?
And yes, I do take requests.
Nurd Up!