I delight in words,
All kinds of words,
Big words, small words,
Long words, short words,
Words such as cantankerous,
Which roll your tongue to a ball so fibrous,
And others such as contumacious,
Will mean that you’re not obsequious.
I could say that Tom is confident – but where’s the fun,
I’d rather he has great aplomb – and gets a tan.
Then there’s Mary who’s choleric,
She’s always vexed if you’re not specific,
But her sister’s generic,
And it gives her a feeling oh so tragic.
There’s also Jerry who’s slimy, creepy, and quite sycophantic;
In other words, he’s effusive, grovelling, oleaginous – it makes him tick,
And his unctuous attitude, I fear, will become a pandemic.
Then right next to Jerry, there’s Julie,
Who invited me for a repast and asked me to bring tulips,
And Jane who’s a teacher who loves doing backflips.
Lastly, there’s Fay who’s gone through many a vicissitude,
And she conquered all, though with some turpitude.