National Limerick Day

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Today (May 12th) is National Limerick Day, which is celebrated in honour of the English writer of limericks and nonsense verse, Edward Lear. You can learn about National Limerick Day here https://nationaldaycalendar.com/days-2/national-limerick-day-may-12/. In honour of National Limerick Day I have composed 2 limericks in honour of Lear:

There was an elderly man called Lear
Who drank 10 pints of beer.
“To drink is such a bore”,
He said with a snore.
“And I’ve been dead for many a year!”.

There once was a poet called Lear
For whom I shed a tear.
‘Twas his curse
To write nonsense verse
But he made the world less drear!

I Challenge You To…

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A number of contributions to Ester Chilton’s challenges to write about the subject of chips (last weeks challenge) and sunshine (this weeks challenge). My contributions to both challenges can be found below along with those of others.

Esther Chilton's avatarEsther Chilton

This week’s challenge is to write a story, limerick or poem on the subject of:

Sunshine

Last week’s challenge was to write about chips/crisps. You sent in some really funny pieces. Here are a few:

Here’s Keith Channing‘s brilliant limerick:

As soon as it passes my lips
The best food descends to my hips
Fried fish done in batter
Will soon make me fatter
So for now, it’s Goodby Mr Chips.

Steph Richmond has written something we can all relate to:

The WeightWatchers Conundrum.
It looked at me, tempting me. I could almost hear it saying, ‘Go on, I won’t hurt you… come just a little closer.’ I was torn. Should I give in to temptation? My mind was saying, ‘No’, my heart saying, ‘Yes’. I am learning to follow my heart in most things.
I reach out to accept my fate, my mouth waters. My mind tries…

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There Was A Young Man Called Guy

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There was a young man called Guy
Who worked in the field of AI.
He created a robot girl to love
But alas she gave him the shove
Which caused that young man to cry

Oil

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To pour oil on troubled waters
Calms.
But when
The daughters
Of men
Employ their charms
The oil may destroy
Both girl and boy.

One can overanalyse
An action.
Yet a girl’s bright eyes
May grow dim
Through too much interaction
With a random him
And him.

‘Tis true
That there is nothing new
Under the sun.
Men will after pleasure run
And fun
Is only a phone call
Away. And perhaps to some
To fall
Is no great matter at all.

Bark Rubbings

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Close to the end of the woodland path,
Shortly before you join the thoroughfare,
There
I ran my hands across the tree.

It’s rough bark kindled in me
A child’s wish to an impression make
Of that tree, and to take
It away with me.

Had I crayons, perhaps I would have captured that bark
On pristine
Paper, creating a clean
Bark rubbing
Leaving the tree as before.

Yet as I stood
Close to the edge of that wood
I thought how one can neither restore
Nor rub away
Yesterday.