Monthly Archives: May 2016
A knight-errant who hailed from the north To his squire said: ‘Go thaddle my horth.’ Though he spoke with a lisp, His orders were crisp, And the squire said ‘Yeth, Mathter, of courth.’
There was a young man from the West Who liked to go out underdressed. He’d call at the vicar’s Wearing nothing but knickers, A smile and a grubby string vest.
Thursday the twelfth day of May Is national limerick day. Let the poetical clique Pour scorn on the ‘rick: We who write ’em cry hip, hip hooray.
There was a young man from the East Who ate forty figs at a feast. He didn’t suspect That his tum would object But the poor chap’s now sadly deceased.
Well who’s the cat that got the cream? Ingénue Magazine has just given ‘Paw Prints in the Butter’ a most blush-making review. Here’s a sample: “As with all good writing, this collection of poems can be returned to and enjoyed … Continue reading
Bird watching The seagull on the roof is a menace, And I hate the wood-pidge on the fenace. But blackbirds I love And the odd collared dove, Though damned if I know where the wren is.