… and that the more you think about it, the less nonsensical it becomes.
Cold Are the Crabs
Cold are the crabs that crawl on yonder hills
Colder the cucumbers that grow beneath,
And colder still the brazen chops that wreathe
The tedious gloom of philosophic pills!
For when the tardy gloom of nectar fills
The ample bowls of demons and of men,
There lurks the feeble mouse, the homely hen,
And there the porcupine with all her quills.
Yet much remains — to weave a solemn strain
That lingering sadly — slowly dies away,
Daily departing with departing day.
A pea green gamut on a distant plain
Where wily walrusses in congress meet–
Such such is life–
(If you’re wondering about the teaser image, go here to view it in its full glory! It’s a lovely limerick Lear wrote and illustrated.)
(Image: “Edward Lear, Limerick 1” by Edward Lear – Lear, The Book of Nonsense, London New York 1888. Licensed under Public domain via Wikimedia Commons.)