A 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.
My dear old friend Hector is Dutch.
He’s quiet and doesn’t say much.
That’s what is meant
He doesn’t use words as a crutch.
They said it was going to snow.
It hasn’t done lately, you know.
I can’t get enough
Of that lovely white stuff;
Its kiss always leaves me aglow.
If wildly’s the word of the day
Then there’s but one thing I can say.
I don’t have the time,
It’s too hard to rhyme,
And so I’m refusing to play!
I never once wore winkle-pickers;
They’re for rockers and some city-slickers.
I was a mod,
You silly old sod;
And now there’s a twist in your knickers!
In a time when the world was much better,
When ‘I’ was no more than a letter,
One man came along
With a different song
And armed with a burning vendetta.