I found this poëm somewhere out there, on teh Intraweb, a few years ago. It makes a nice mnemonic:
Quote:
When I was a little boy,
My teacher told me this:
You could rhyme boy with toy,
And you could rhyme this with kiss.
There are four words, however,
That have no counterpart.
It stuck in my mind forever
That poëts have failed in part.
One of those words is month;
Another of them is silver.
Yes, I tried it a hunth
And almost had a chilver.
The third of those words is orange;
The fourth is the color purple.
Even when I grew a sporange,
I still could only hirple.
_________________
The red lake has been forgotten. A dust devil stuns you long enough to shroud forever those last shards of wisdom. The breeze rocking this forlorn wasteland whispers in your ears, “Não resta mais que uma sombra”.
