Michael and Pat Thursday
We’re in the bush this week, and with the exhaustion Stan
referred to last week after knocking Dead
of Night into good shape at the eleventh hour (and fifty-fifth minute), and
with another deadline already looming, it seemed that something a bit more
light hearted might be in order. So here it is.
You may have developed the impression that only good things
happen in the African bush from the posts from me, Stan, and Annamaria. Well,
that’s not always the case. Consider the Egyptian lady:
There was a young girl
from the Nile,
Who fell for a large
crocodile,
Although she quite
bloomed,
Their affair was quite
doomed,
For he ate her after a
while.
Then there was the experience we had a few days ago:
The baboon who shat on
the car,
Preened himself like a
star,
“With a smelly great
turd,
I have had the last
word,
And the stink will
spread wide and far!”
There are some lascivious things goings on. We
noticed that our friendly large lizard who is usually found sunning himself on
a well-oriented rock had developed some pinkish scales. Imagine our shock at
discovering what this means.
The giant plated
lizard once said,
“I can feel the change
to my head,
When the scales go
pink,
As quick as a wink,
I will lure a young lady to
bed!”
Finally there is the Fork-tailed Drongo who spends his
mornings with the car’s side mirror.
A delightful young
Drongo named Jayzee,
Is known for his
beauty but lazy,
He coos to himself,
On each reflecting
shelf,
The narcissism is
driving him crazy!
As for me, I was tearing out so much hair over the last few
weeks that my beard survived unscathed. I approached trimming it with
trepidation.
Michael, while
trimming his beard,
Said it is just as I
feared,
“A Pearl-spotted Owl,
And two Guinea Fowl,
Have all made their
nests in my beard.”
(With apologies to Edward Lear.)
We’re sure the Limerick experts out there can do better.
You’re invited to paste your favorite creature limericks into comments, or send
them on to me and I’ll add them to the post.
To Trump a writer at his sport
ReplyDeleteWould be an effort of the last resort.
To Don a coiffure
I'm totally sure
Would draw the appropriate retort.
So with trepidation myself to comport
I arrive with this Big Game report
That Eric doth brag
His father he'd bag
For his failure, his child, to abort.
:}
ReplyDeleteI'm now going to make a serious meteorological comment;
ReplyDeleteI can see something way up high
A big yellow thing in the sky
Ma sporrans nae drookit
The dug’s jist fair fookit
Scotland’s just drank itself dry!
There was a lady near Jersey,
ReplyDeleteWho tried her darn best to curtsy,
But each time she dipped,
A narcissist quipped,
'To me and my presidency.'
Everett, I see you have taken my suggestion of 'creature' pretty accurately!
ReplyDeleteCaro, I love your limerick. I just wish I understood it!
Jeff, As per EvKa!
Michael; it's sunny here. The sporrans are nice and dry, the dogs are all lying around and everybody is very drunk.
ReplyDeleteSo the last bit is business as usual.