There once was a lad who wanted to court
a lass, who saw in his small stature no thwart
reaching only five six
he did quickly transfix
in one wink, eighteen years, breathlessly short
I’m not a fan of shoes. Under that nice cathedral train, I’m wearing sneakers which were traded out for slippers at the reception. Needless to say, I would be on my tippy toes all the time if I married a tall man. When I read an article in Self Magazine on how short men make better husbands, I knew I found the perfect subject for my 18th anniversary limerick.