“Turtle rhymes with purple,” I said to my daughter, as we drove around the winding roads of the High Peak.
“So?” my daughter replied.
“They say, ‘nothing rhymes with purple’.”
“You’re wrong,” she said flatly.
“I-am-not-wrong!” I replied indignantly.
“It’s orange.”
“What is?”
“It’s, ‘nothing rhymes with orange’,” she said, gazing wistfully out of the window.
“Oh.”
Challenge accepted.
NOTHING RHYMES WITH ORANGE
By David Milligan-Croft
I feel a twinge…
Does that rhyme with orange?
The thought makes me cringe.
That nothing rhymes with orange.
That girl’s fringe is orange.
It’s a lunatic-orange-fringe.
Her name is Georgina.
She’s drinking a bottle of Orangina.
I once used a syringe,
To extract the juice from an orange.
I saw a sunset go down over Stonehenge.
I think you know what colour it was.
David Milligan-Croft
Silliness frames your most bella photo. Wow!
Thanks! I thought it was time for a bit of levity!
🙂
Those are the kind of father daughter conversations I loved!
Me too. Little rogues, the pair of them!
This made me smile a great big grin!
Then it’s served its purpose. Thanks Claudia.
Nothing is more oranger than an orange in a porringer.
Love it! And I’ve learnt something new. (What a porringer is.)
They used to be a specialty at Gorringes’s on the Buckingham Palace Road. When Christopher Robin went down with Alice they used to stop there for tea.