Tuesday, 21 November 2017

Anniversary (a)musings…

Just a little set of amuse-bouches – of hastily-scribbled, reasonably relevant, limericks… – to celebrate four years of blogging! (Photo courtesy of the wonderful people at Dr C P Grey Opticians.)

Read ’em and weep

The Bard of the village of Tysoe
Did wonder and worry just why so
     Few views were logged
     Of the words he had blogged
The paucity making him cry so

Hot off the press

There once was a brilliant Bard
Who typed so exceedingly hard
     That his fingers were numb
     (As was his poor bum)
And the keyboard he hammered was charred

Did Cicero say anything?

The Orchestra’s Writer-in-Residence
Loves using his words to set precedence
     With notes so unique
     They could well be in Greek
Ή ακόμα και για τους γούνιους ελέφαντες

Word cloud

Four years of writing his blog
Had turned the poor Bard’s brain to fog
     His ideas were rusty
     His thoughts somewhat fusty
And his mind smelled of nothing but smog

Rhyme nor reason

When writing a bundle of limericks
You resort to such odd rhymes as “fiddlesticks”
     When you get to the end
     It is hard not to spend
Several hours wishing you really hadn’t…

Ink and drink

When writing artistic reviews
The Bard often nips at the booze
     This makes him productive
     His crits more constructive
And it easier, when finished, to snooze

When the midden…

When designing a neighbourhood plan
You should constantly carry the can
     So don’t propose mews
     That will ruin our views
Or the sh!t will soon wallop the fan

…hits the windmill

On the top of the hill sits a mill
Which gives all us locals a thrill
     Its belongs, though, to Spenny
     (One of few, not of many)
The reason it always stands still

Raise the roof

It’s nearly the time for Messiah
With trumpets and drums and a choir
     Inside Holy Trinity
     Immersed in divinity
And topped with a tall, pointy spire

Amen to that!

We shall all stand, of course, for the chorus
As King George may’ve done well before us
     Hallelujah, they sing
     On a prayer and a wing
The result, we hope, being sonorous

Or even about furry elephants…

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