This weekend I have spent my time
In efforts futile (though sublime)
I did espy upon the web
A Limerick Comp (that’s what they said)
I bent my brain in this endeavor
To put my name in lights forever
I penned my entry, and submitted
(I really was too much committed)
Then I found to my dismay
The comp had closed the previous day!!
I ranted and I raved in vain
(I think I went a bit insane)
And then – and this did make me sick
The winner didn’t even stick
To the rules that make a Limerick!!
I spent all day in deep disgust
The way they had abused my trust…..
The closing date was not made clear
I could have come to blows I fear
Instead my brain went out to lunch –
No, that’s not right, it’s me that went
My brain stayed home and had some brunch
As you can see, I’m still confused
I really thought I’d blow a fuse
And so my chance at world wide fame
I have to put on hold again.
“So, what,” I hear you say (some hope!)
“Was this great Limerick you wrote?”
Well, it had to be about Test Cricket
So here it is (if you can stick it.)
It's addressed to the
radio commentary team....change of rhythm required.....
This isn't true ‘Limerick’
‘Cos their rules are too strict
It’s a little off-topic
So I’ll mention Tresgothic
But here there is something
I have to confess -
I’ve been rather bold,
For one who’s so old –
I have put pen to paper
And made quite a mess.
I learned of a contest
On the ABC site
You had asked for a limerick
And my rhymings are tight -
I could scarcely believe it
It’s my easiest trick -
For these poems of splendour
I have quite a bender
But mine often make people sick.
The story you told
Was of prizes and gold
About this game Cricket
I thought, ‘That’s my ticket!’
It took less than one second
And the idea was sold -
I rushed to my keyboard
My tale to unfold
As Punter was batting
And Tendulkar bowled.
You informed us in passing
That, ‘though Indians like fasting
They’re also quite partial
To that dish everlasting
They eat it in truckloads -
(At least most of them do,)
‘Cos it helps them get runs
And it’s called Vindaloo.
To fill empty air
Is often a challenge -
(To be perfectly fair
You don’t always manage)
So you thought up a thing
That was cheaper than bling -
That wasn’t too blatant
(Or still under patent) – .
You dreamt up a game
For your listeners to try –
That could lead them to fame
And make the time fly.
You thought it was fun
When you asked for a pun
But you had no idea
That we all, far and near
Do like an incentive
And can be inventive
While watching Tendulkar
(Yes, that’s right, mea culpa)
Achieve yet another big ton.
To get back to confessing -
The lure of a prize
Had me busy professing
Words witty and wise –
So I wrote down a few
Of a suitable size
And then I submitted -
(For wits to be pitted
You must be committed)
And to win it, in other men’s eyes.
You never suspected
That under your noses
This monster was lurking
In various poses -
You should have been quaking
In boots made of leather
Instead of discussing
The state of the weather.
I know it’s too long
And the rhyming’s erratic
It won’t do as a song
It could even cause static…but -
If I don’t win a prize
In the judge’s keen eye
An ‘Honourable Mention’
Would lift all my tension
It’s been quite an effort -
I really did try.
One good thing about music is that when it hits you, you feel no pain - Bob Marley
