Limericks...

  I love poetry. However, that doesn’t mean I like all poems. I was online looking at and editing stories yesterday, when I came across a few pages of these random poems some guy wrote. Some of them were really good, but unfortunately, some of them were not. This is probably the worst limerick ever written:

There once was a bohemian monk


Who fell asleep on an old wooden bunk

He dreamt that Venus

Was tickling his elbow


And he woke up covered in sweat

…

THAT’S NOT EVEN A LIMMERICK, PEOPLE. It doesn’t even rhyme. I saw it and thought, “What is this??” It’s an insult. An insult to limericks everywhere. I actually wrote a few myself. I showed it to someone, and they looked at me weird. Alas, I do not believe that limericks don’t have to be funny. Here’s one set of them:

I curse and sigh, my life flies by

The wind in the sails, my boat in the sky.

I see my little boy,

My pride, my joy,

My heart melts, and I sing him a soft lullaby.

Through the air we soar as I sing,

My voice echoes slightly, a faint kind of ring.

I glance at the ice

This time’s sacrifice

I continue my song, now my words speak of spring

I sing about meadows, and whispering trees.

I sing of new life, and sing of the bees.

I hear a small sound

I start, and look down.

My little boy sleeps, and I smile inwardly

Okay, yeah. So it’s not great. Meh. But here’s one that’s not serious or anything:

There once was a girl named Cordelia

Who had a delicious idelia

She cooked up a pot

Of beans, spicy hot

And placed them inside a tortillia 

Yay! Lame limericks are cool and stuff.

That is all.