Tagged: limericks

Feed me!


If I was at home wiv me mum
She’d put insects and worms in me tum
But what I’ve got here
I ain’t got no idea
If you ask me, it’s all a bit rum.

Trust me to fall out of the nest
You’d think I’d have stuck wiv wot’s best
But I fell in the grass
Got a bruise on me ***
And you can imagine the rest

As if that pain wasn’t enough
I heard a small dog going, “Ruff!”
I wound up in its mouth,
It was all going south
Till a man picked him up by the scruff.

He looked at the dog and said, “Drop,”
I fell on the ground with a plop
To save me more hustle
With his flippin’ Jack Russell
He wrapped me up snug in his top.

I suppose you could say it’s absurd
To feed doggy food to a bird,
But this clever old bloke
Gave it first a good soak
(Though it’s still not wot I’d have preferred).

The result of the story, you see
Is it turned out to be good for me
I stayed a bit longer,
Got bigger and stronger,
And when fit enough, was set free!

This was written in response to Kreative Kue 217 published on this site.

Time and tide…


I know that you’re trying to portray
This scene at the fag end of day,
But I think that you might
Want what’s left of the light,
So make haste, let’s have no more delay.

The tide’s coming in rather fast,
This photo may well be your last.
Set me back on dry land,
Plant my feet in the sand
Ere the beauteous moment has passed.

The sun is now sinking apace,
It’s so dark you can scarce see my face.
There will only, quite soon,
Be the weak light of moon
To attempt to illumine to the place.

It is forecast that in this locality
The moon will eclipse in totality.
If it’s as I recall,
You won’t see me at all.
Does your phone offer flash functionality?

This was written in response to Kreative Kue 210 published on this site.

The trials of a display falconer


An Eagle Owl known here as Duffy
Had ear-tufts at once long and fluffy,
He’d to any trick
For a morsel of chick;
Forget it, and he got quite huffy.

For treats, he’d go where e’er he’s led
As long as he’s properly fed,
But who knew the reason
In his breeding season
He’d mate with the falconer’s head.

As if on a definite cue-in
Some kid would shout, “Hey, what’s he doin’?”
But the handler played dumb
And replied, “Ask your Mum”
As another display falcon flew in.

You think that the falcon was easy?
He’d be gone if the weather was breezy
And the falcon’s religion
Involved hunting pigeon
Which always made some people queasy.

Now, if it should fancy its luck
And choose to hunt down a duck,
Somebody would shout,
“Go stop it, you lout.”
Its trainer’s reply? “Will I heck!”

This was written in response to Kreative Kue 209 published on this site.