Here’s a poem I remember by Willard R. Espy, whom I mentioned a while back.

It’s just one of those random things that enter one’s mind. You know, the random poetry which pops into our heads now and then. Happens to everyone, you know? And this one is about the depression in the upper lip, just below the nose:

I have a little philtrum,
Wherein my spiltrum flows.
When I am feeling illtrum,
And runny at the nose.

Now you won’t forget what that thing is called. And did you know that the white area at the base of the fingernail is called a “lunula” or “lunule”? I had to look up the spelling of that, but I was close.