K. Morris's Blog, page 492

National Limerick Day

Today (May 12th) is National Limerick Day, which is celebrated in honour of the English writer of limericks and nonsense verse, Edward Lear. You can learn about National Limerick Day here https://nationaldaycalendar.com/days-2/national-limerick-day-may-12/. In honour of National Limerick Day I have composed 2 limericks in honour of Lear:

There was an elderly man called Lear
Who drank 10 pints of beer.
“To drink is such a bore”,
He said with a snore.
“And I’ve been dead for many a year!”.

Th...

There Was A Young Lady Called Rose

There was a young lady called Rose
Who never wore any clothes.
A policeman called Jim
Went for a swim
But not with that young lady Rose

I Know A Young Lady Called Kipps

I know a young lady called Kipps.
Bad language never passes her lips.
But in a Soho club
Called the Rubber Dub Dub
She seductively wriggles her hips

I Challenge You To…

A number of contributions to Ester Chilton’s challenges to write about the subject of chips (last weeks challenge) and sunshine (this weeks challenge). My contributions to both challenges can be found below along with those of others.

estherchiltonblog

This week’s challenge is to write a story, limerick or poem on the subject of:

Sunshine

Last week’s challenge was to write about chips/crisps. You sent in some really funny pieces. Here are a few:

Here’s Keith Channing‘s brilliant limerick:

As...

I Once Knew A Dog Called Rover

I once knew a dog called Rover
Who ate my favourite pullover.
When I began to moan
He swallowed my phone
So I banished him to Dover!

There Was A Young Man Called Guy

There was a young man called Guy
Who worked in the field of AI.
He created a robot girl to love
But alas she gave him the shove
Which caused that young man to cry

Oil

To pour oil on troubled waters
Calms.
But when
The daughters
Of men
Employ their charms
The oil may destroy
Both girl and boy.

One can overanalyse
An action.
Yet a girl’s bright eyes
May grow dim
Through too much interaction
With a random him
And him.

‘Tis true
That there is nothing new
Under the sun.
Men will after pleasure run
And fun
Is only a phone call
Away. And perhaps to some
To fall
Is no great matter at all.

If I Could Paint A Portrait

If I could paint a portrait
Of each dream and nightmare
There you would see me
Naked in love and hate

Nameless Feet

Nameless feet have walked this way.
We danced but none did stay.
Some in heels, others bare
Dancing, dancing to who knows where.

The dance
May entrance
Or bring on care,
Shameless feet dancing, to who knows where.

Bark Rubbings

Close to the end of the woodland path,
Shortly before you join the thoroughfare,
There
I ran my hands across the tree.

It’s rough bark kindled in me
A child’s wish to an impression make
Of that tree, and to take
It away with me.

Had I crayons, perhaps I would have captured that bark
On pristine
Paper, creating a clean
Bark rubbing
Leaving the tree as before.

Yet as I stood
Close to the edge of that wood
I thought how one can neither restore
Nor rub away
Yesterday.