An exploration of why we ought to be grateful for weathermen’s smajlics.
“You see it’s like a portmanteau—there are two meanings packed up into one word.” —Humpty Dumpty (Through the Looking Glass, chapter VI).
In autmer, as the railevs fell
with splasles on the sidewalks there,
An early winall wind blew fell
and wivil portents everywhere.
Then hero weathermen arose
with solsty faces drawn with feage,
And espellcations cast in prose
that spoke of lighn’s more blissome miege.
Fear not the chushing seathens, ye
who loathe the winall breezes’ breath,
For weathermen spast woft that we
might froljoy with no feap of death.