Tagged: limericks

NaNoWriMoan

I hear what you’re saying, my sweet,
And you know that I’m not one to bleat,
But the barbie needs lighting,
So put down your writing.
We’ve been here for hours – let’s eat

You told us way back in September,
And yes, we all said we’d remember
That thing that you do
Is important to you
And you’re busy for most of November.

So why did you invite your friend
A ‘convivial’ evening to spend?
But I’ll tell you what,
You read out what you’ve got.
And we’ll comment on what you have penned.

Before you attempt us to thrill,
Can you please put a match to the grill?
If I don’t eat soon
I’ll be starting to swoon.
Already I’m feeling quite ill.

What’s that? You’re insisting that first
I bring you some wine for your thirst?
Let me tell you, my love,
That idea you can shove.
And what’s more, you can do it cork first!

Just read us the last page, okay?
And I’ll open some Cabernet.
Then put down your book
While I start to cook.
By the way, are you sure LJ is gay?


I wrote this in response to Kreative Kue 196, issued on this site earlier this week. Feel free to join in; just follow the link.

Kreative Kue 196

Kreative Kue 195 asked for submissions based on this photograph:
John W Howell is the author of the John Cannon trilogy of My GRL, His Revenge, Our Justice and Circumstances of Childhood, co-author of The Contract, and blogs at Fiction Favorites.

The Wager by John W. Howell © 2018

“Let me buy you a drink, my man.”

“That is very nice of you given the circumstances.”

“Ah what the heck. Life is too short.”

“But it seems like one would feel a little remorse.”

“Remorse? For what?”

“Well, it seems like a pretty goodly amount of money.”

“Yeah, but you know what they say, ‘easy come, easy go.”’

“I know if it were me, I don’t think I would take it so well.”

“You have to remember who suggested the wager.”

“That’s true. I guess if you hadn’t prepared yourself to lose you never would have suggested going title to title on a boat race.”

“That part is true. You see I really had not too much to lose.”

“What are you talking about? That is a gorgeous five-masted schooner.”

“You know the old saying, ‘one mans trash, another man’s treasure.”‘

“Yeah, I’ve heard that.”

“See, I have been trying to sell that tub for over two years with no takers.”

“That is surprising. It is a classic.”

“Yes, it is. Loaded with barnacles and filled with woodworms.”

“So you are saying you are glad to get rid of it.”

“You tell me. The last salvage estimate I got was over a million.”

“Someone would pay you a million?”

“No, I would have to pay a million to get rid of it. Now, how about that drink?”

“Now it is my problem.”

“Yup and at a leakage rate of one hundred gallons an hour, I think you better figure out what to do with it. Those pumps are pretty old. Maybe tow it beyond the shelf and scuttle it.”

“Gin on the rocks.”


Meanwhile, my effort was:

Avast!

A sailor from Trincomalee
Set off for adventure at sea,
He sat in the poop
Of a three-masted sloop
With his two mates, Abdullah and Lee.

“We’re making sail for the Antilles,”
Said the captain, which gave Lee the willies.
“We’ll be in good shape
If we go round the cape.”
Does he think we’re a bunch of hillbillies?

They first passed the Cape of Good Hope
Where they were all blessed by the Pope;
But all his best wishes
Won’t wash any dishes
For that you need water… and soap.

They crossed the Atlantic at last,
After many long days they had passed
Eating off dirty plates
And fighting with mates
Till the loser was tied to the mast.

They then tried to make it a race
With a clipper going to the same place.
“We won’t be as fast
With one fewer mast”
Said Abdullah – he of the long face.

Their expressions could not have been blanker
When they saw the damned clipper at anchor.
“The *!#s must have cheated!”
The captain expleted,
“Either that, or their skipper’s a highly skilled navigator, more than worthy of his commission.”


On to this week’s challenge: Using this photo as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene, poem; anything, really; even just a caption for the photograph. Either put it (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at keithchanning@gmail.com before 6pm next Sunday (if you aren’t sure what the time is where I live, this link will tell you). If you post it on your own blog or site, a link to this page would be appreciated, but please do also mention it in a comment here.

Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries, with links to your own blog or web site, next Monday.

Avast!

A sailor from Trincomalee
Set off for adventure at sea,
He sat in the poop
Of a three-masted sloop
With his two mates, Abdullah and Lee.

“We’re making sail for the Antilles,”
Said the captain, which gave Lee the willies.
“We’ll be in good shape
If we go round the cape.”
Does he think we’re a bunch of hillbillies?

They first passed the Cape of Good Hope
Where they were all blessed by the Pope;
But all his best wishes
Won’t wash any dishes
For that you need water… and soap.

They crossed the Atlantic at last,
After many long days they had passed
Eating off dirty plates
And fighting with mates
Till the loser was tied to the mast.

They then tried to make it a race
With a clipper going to the same place.
“We won’t be as fast
With one fewer mast”
Said Abdullah – he of the long face.

Their expressions could not have been blanker
When they saw the damned clipper at anchor.
“The *!#s must have cheated!”
The captain expleted,
“Either that, or their skipper’s a highly skilled navigator, more than worthy of his commission.”

 


I wrote this in response to Kreative Kue 195, issued on this site earlier this week. Feel free to join in; just follow the link.