It turns out that Louis Pasteur
Was, psychically, less than all pure.
A room he’d secure
With a hidden peep viewer:
Old Louis was quite the voyeur!
Empirically writing, John Locke
Philosophized next to a loch.
The loch was Loch Lomand:
All Gaelic—not Norman’d,
So John Locke’s loch book was a lock.
My dad and I, we have a way
Of complicating words we say.
To you “percale” is our “purr-COL-lee.”
Excuse us once, just once per collie.
Hankered after spirits Scotchy.
(Barring that, some Nippon sake).
Sunday! Closed! He knew a gaucho,
Macho, Sunday-selling nachos.
Fibonacci’s macho gaucho nachos.
The lissome composer, Franz Liszt,
Was affected by labial lisps.
Proved the right remedies
To render Liszt’s lisp to a wisp.
Henry 8’s wife was lawn bowling.
Henry Percy saw, eyes rolling.
“Did he see more?” asked Jane Seymour.
“You may lose your head, Boleyn!”
A question that’s novelly dry, sir:
Is the “s” to be soft in T. Dreiser?
Or should it be “z”?
Conundrum to me
That spurs me to drink down Budweiser.
Anthropology, linguistics, archaeology, and writing systems
Wandering through the world of words and language
Carmina et Verba pro Discipulis Meis
Young Adult Science Fiction and Fantasy Author
Teacher, Author, Christian, Wife, Foster Mother, and Youth Sponsor...not necessarily in that order
Creating an enviroment for sexual purity, starting with the heart
Reading, writing and a-rhythmic tics
creativity : art : philosophy : productivity : writing
Discover the Magical Whimsical Art and Jewelry Creations of Liza Paizis