As in Oh, My Papa. Although usually with the emphasis reversed.
P peppers and peoples the popping peninsula perpetually, being a plosive.
P pisses down, plopping and pulsing, pouring pleasantly, persistently.
P, with Greek ancestry, also pretends to be F, philosophically phoning in phony physics, covered in pheromones.
P, proximally is happy and sappy and dapper.
Papa's got a brand new pink thang.
Or, was that a purple thing?
Zulu, Yankee, X-ray, Whiskey, Victor, Uniform, Tango, Sierra, Romeo, Quebec, Papa.
4 comments:
Having just watched the documentary on J. C. Clarke, when I read the second and third lines with his rhythm in my head. Positively perfect alliteration.
Crow,
He does stick in one's head, don't he?
P is also for Phil Plasma.
Phil,
You've been waiting for this, haven't you?
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