Could It Be...

Lady Ursula,

Did someone say, "twee"? Did I hear the word, "twee"? the most apt and elegant of words, as daintyrich as a sugar cube lowered into a cup of earl grey? Is it not the very meaning cast so vulgarly as the word "cute" by those across the sea who chew on each word as they do on the gum through which they mumble, oh, excuse me, speak?

"Twee" is not a word I hear often, but when I do, the very air chimes so melodiously as to multiply the dance of the Tetley Tea Folk and their most resounded jig around the pot. "Twee" is a present from a distance, a speck in utterance, but a bold streak in the trajectory of its meaning, a late summer shooting star arcing over my hat in spring. O fortunate me, in the path of twee!

I will thus make a wish!

I wish to use "twee" as verb even, not as to tweedle, precious, no, but as in to create an object as twee as we observe hanging from the xmas tree.

And is it not a fact as crunchy as digestive biscuits that with the addition of "s" twee and some playful nudging, "twee" becomes "sweet," and so, immeasurably sweeter? To twee sweetly is not the same as to tweet sweetly, it is to sweetly be in the most twee of ways so that one is in surfeit of tweetness till sweetness:

He who twees
is sweet to me!
And if you do,
I twee with you.

I do not have the panache to use this word outside our teaparlor but am infinitely delighted that you indeed have allowed me this opportunity.

Let us ever twee!

me