I bought a house on Blorenge--
That’s a well-known hill in Wales--
’Cause I need a rhyme for “orange,”
And I’m sick of rhyming fails!
In a little pen outside
You’ll find a darling little chilver.
Oh, she’s fluffy and wide-eyed
And--even better--rhymes with “silver”!
I stay there each December--
It’s my favorite of the months!
Just two weeks, and please remember,
That is fourteen thirty-oneths!
Yet, despite my plans and scheming,
I can’t find a rhyme for “purple”!
And the bitter tears come streaming--
Oh, I feel like such a “curple”!