“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, ‘nothing rhymes with orange’,” she said, gazing wistfully out of the window.
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.