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Limericks III of Our Lives

In retirement I have a while, To pen Limericks by the pile, I hope I bring U pleasure, As I write at my leisure, And hope they bring a smile

The Sky's the Limit

The Sky's the Limit

Apartment Life

My electric fan blade has just shattered

The fan guard did save me being battered

Switched-on, it began to oscillate

Just seconds, an enormous high rate

Turned it off, but too slow, that’s what mattered

When an electric fan breaks its blade

I start to wonder how it's made

Perhaps cheap material

Cutting costs that's usual

But it wasn't a cheap price that I had paid

Whatever will the neighbors think?

My kettle is horrendous pink

It looks ever so girly

I should call it Shirley

Better not, that might cause a stink

My floor’s not carpet but tiles

Their hardness will last for miles

They’re cool on my feet

It’s such a nice treat

The material’s ceramic not textiles

I have no ice for my drinks

So I’ll sit right back and thinks

The plastic egg tray

Will save the day

Washed and cleaned it no longer stinks

Ice Tray (Plastic Egg Carton)

Ice Tray (Plastic Egg Carton)

Interests Life

The aim of the game is always the same

To win at all costs regardless of blame

Subtle cheats here 'n' there

Are OK?, they don’t care

Just bring home the prize, and the fame

Since the days of Edward Lear

In poetry clubs afar and near

Limericks are told

By the young and the old

They always will, you can have no fear

To emulate the great Edward Lear

Nonsense limericks are required, that’s clear

There was a man, they began

From some place in some land

I’ll write some, try to be Edward’s peer

Compass Bearing

Compass Bearing

Nonsense Limericks (with a Nod to Ed. Lear)

The was a man from the South

Who had an enormous mouth

He could swallow a whale

With room to inhale

At times he was used as a goalmouth

There was a man from the North

Who, when called upon, came forth

They said “What a guy”

But he didn’t know why

He wasn’t the first, only fourth

There was a man from the East

Who arranged a really great feast

He drank with a thirst

And ate till he burst

‘Twas the gas, they said, from the yeast

There was a man from the West

Who would always try to be best

He just couldn't face

To come second place

He was still trying when they laid him to rest

There was a man from the mountains

Who enjoyed dancing in fountains

Crowds would throw coins

When he gyrated his loins

At the bank, he opened an account in

A (Tongue-in-Cheek) Ode to a Broken Fan Blade

Oh Broken blade, broken blade,

Oh how you danced and played

Almost had me in a trance

Almost made me fill my pants

The day your breaking-up was so displayed

There was a man from a beecher

Who was a normal human creature

He ate honey from bees

From the hives in the trees

On Sundays he had tea with a preacher

(Beecher or beacher in Ye Olde Englishe means “a place near the beech trees”)

Map and Compasses

Map and Compasses

“That’s Life” Life (C'est La Vie)

When we play by the rules

We get taken for fools

By unemotional folk

Who think it’s a joke

That some people are just not cruel

I eat my meal at the table

Because I am very able

I don’t sit on the floor

It makes me real sore

Close the door, where you born in a stable?

It never rains but it pours

When we sail from our shores

And when we come back

We can see an acute lack

Of possessions that once were yours

Please look after my things

And the pleasure that they brings

Treat ‘em as your own

And when I come home

I’ll bring gifts like bracelets and rings

Please store my belongings and saddles

While I’m away enjoying my travels

Don’t do it, please stop

My own, not charity shop

Many memories in my stuff you’ll unravels

In my younger days I took a wife

In cockney rhyme she’s trouble and strife

Though I always tried my best

Ne’er truer words were said in jest

Drastic thoughts of needing sanctuary were rife

There is no can’t in AmeriCAN

Also true for African and Mexican

But if I could be bold

I’d say if the truth be told

With the right attitude any man can

It is said that the sky’s the limit

So why do many folk say “What’s in it...”

...for me? I need to gain,

Without any pain

Give me a clue, or else you can bin it”

Pink Kettle (Water Heater Jug)

Pink Kettle (Water Heater Jug)

Other Sectors of Life

Hobby Life

Whilst rambling I had a mishap

So I bought for myself a new map

And compass, I confess

Are much better than GPS

Which perhaps is just a stop-gap

When I tried I didn’t get far

When learning to play my guitar

I got off to a good start

Learned some chords by heart

But I play slow, I just can't be a star

I tried to learn my ukulele

I practiced every day and that’s daily

But like the guitar

I just couldn’t get far

Now it’s all gone like a comet named Haley

Whilst hiking I had a mishap

So I bought for me another map

They say I look grand

With map ‘n’ compass in hand

But I know it’s all flattery and ‘crapberries’

Work Life

Seven months since I retired

Wasting away, I need be rehired

But what can I do?

If I tell the boss what to do

Then that might just get me re-fired

3-Blade Standing Electric Fans

3-Blade Standing Electric Fans

© 2019 Stive Smyth

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