A new series of (non-acrostic) limericks produced in response to various prompts.
These will appear on Saturday mornings wherever possible.
Let me know what you think.
I’m doing my best to recall
How nervous I was this last fall.
What sort of a fellah
Will write a novella
In just thirty days – if at all?
Political cynic, 2020.
Politicians? They really are fake.
So many appear on the take.
Not out in the open
But still, I’ll bet, hoping
Some personal profit to make.
The man next door’s in his yard, grilling,
His wife and her friends are all milling.
I’m singing a ballad
And, just like a salad,
I’m resting here, quietly chilling.
The four o’clock group improvising
Is something I’ll end up despising.
Though I do my best,
If I fail one more test
I’ll have to start bloody revising!