A mathematician from chapel
Who sets himself problems to grapple
Would soon start to sigh
If he tried using π
To measure the standard π-napple.
Pi-napple
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Category Archives: limerick
Heart or head?
It’s odd that we all thought it fine
to join two ear shapes and call them a sign
which we painted blood red,
stuck on cards which all read
“Won’t you please be my true Valentine?”
Yes, the colour is apt since the saint bled,
so – decapitated – quite dead;
being thus martyred
from his torso was parted
not a heart but a clerical head.
So surely instead of the heart
(shown pierced through by winged Cupid’s dart)
there should be a priest’s tonsure
atop a priest’s bonce, or
a head from its trunk kept apart?
Antivax anxiety
Image: WordPress Free Photo Library
That group who are stridently antivax?
Their hatred of jabs mounts up to the max.
They say “No-one knows just what naughtiness goes
into vaccines;” but note, they are somewhat lax
when it comes to what food in their belly
they have put; one I asked if he’d tell, he
said “Real finger-lickin’, that chlorine-filled chicken,”
and believed all they said, on the telly,
and online: “See, you can’t explain away,”
he said, “vaccine harm to our DNA;
we must all get to grips with effects microchips…”
Urgh — why can’t anyone take all this pain away?
Coronaverse: an alphabet of terms related to Covid-19. Tomorrow brings us the letter B.
Sagacious
You know those two hobbits called Baggins? Their trips only came after naggings from Gandalf the wizard. They wandered through blizzard and mines, then they drank loads of flagons. Now, one found a ring of great power, and one found his way to a tower to bring down a Dark Lord, or perish in Mordor; a deed which caused Sauron to glower.
There’s sadness, adventure and mirth in the lands all around Middle Earth. Right in the middle’s what’s won with some riddles: a magical ring of great worth.
Now a saga is something quite serious, potentous, designed to quite weary us. A limerick’s light, reputedly trite, unsuited to epics imperious. So a story of hobbits, and wizards, and elves, and matters a saga digs down to and delves is no topic for limerick, it’s pointless to mimic. If you want such a tale you must write it yourselves!
Edward III
Image credit WordPress Free Photo Library
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers,
Asking his Maker for good names for bears.
He doesn’t like Edward, or Teddy, but dares
Winnie, or Pooh.
When he’s mounting the stairs
Or wandering in woods and digging out lairs
Pooh — say it loud! — is a good name for bears.
Edmund Bentley‘s rhymes for clerihew must be very few,
As the task’s quite hairy, do at least make them merry too!
There once was an Edward called Lear
Writing nonsense but, just to be clear,
He also did artwork
(and this was the perk)
Got to travel and not stay just here.
Ideals and no deals
Is there still an Olympic ideal? For if not there should be we feel.
It’d be such a treat if all teams didn’t cheat, thinking each shiny medal’s a steal.
Rogue countries just seem on the make because status is always at stake.
So where some have hope there are others who dope as though it’s oh so clever to fake.
Let’s pray no banned drugs are internal so that Rio is rendered infernal.
Then events will all seem above board — squeaky clean — and thus will the flame burn eternal.
goose
The Canada goose likes to wander
To sites far from way over yonder
From seas off Newfoundland to Europe it’s bound and
Once here looks for stream, lake and pond.
Er, why leave lands to fly over water?
It’s water that ought to support her!
It’s proved of great use as resource for the goose
And also resource for the gander.
But I’m told there’s no need to migrate:
We’ve long known that it’s grass that they ate.
Where there’s grass there is home — there’s no reason to roam —
Just a spot to go eat, swim, laze and mate.
Canada geese with goslings, Great Chesterford, Essex
Beginning with this post the blog features a short series of posts about birds, many of them reposts. A few subsequent reposts will cover a period of house-moving: normal service will be resumed as soon as possible!
forecast
Misty rain light as a feather
as mountain and cloud come together.
Hills hid or visible? Then clouds will be drizzle full!
And that’s how to forecast the weather.
Field in ‘Welsh mist’, Preseli Hills, Pembrokeshire, Wales
trance
I once met a man who was in a trance.
As I walked up to him he just did a prance.
When I asked him “Oh why?” he just uttered a sigh
and said, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t Riverdance”
magpie
The Magpie by Thomas Bewick
http://www.bewicksociety.org/galleries/publications/birds_land/magpie800.html
We all know that tchac! means a jackdaw
And that chow! goes the chough and that crows caw!
But magpies go rat-
tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat
Like Poe’s raven their ravings are evermore!
gorgoneion
“Has Medusa a terrible stare?”
Yes, her glare means farewell if you dare
try to risk a fair fight,
for you’ll freeze at first sight!
And the eyes! And the snakes in her hair!
“I just knew as I rode over water
that in combat I should give no quarter,
so I kept my eyes peeled
when I looked in the shield
and I cut off her head as I fought her!”
“But I never saw severed-head djinni,
whom I popped in a sack, what a meanie!
What to do with said hag
whose head’s now in a bag?
Why, I’ll gift it to Pallas Athene!”
Said the goddess, “Why give it to me?
I have powers enough, can’t you see?”
“Well, all girls have a thing
for jewellery and bling…”
“Woah, just stop there, you young MCP!”
“No, listen, you’ll like what I say!
On your breastplate or shield it can stay.
It’ll work like a charm
your foes to disarm,
do your work as you rest and you play!”
So that’s why she wears a Medusa,
a fearsome old terror producer!
“I’m now justly famous
for combat, the same as
for wisdom, so thanks, Perseus, sir!”
apotropaios
Gorgoneion (Gorgon mask) by Thomas Regnaudin (French, 1622–1706). Carved wood, ca. 1660, from the door panels of the Hôtel Amelot de Bisseuil, 47 rue Vieille-du-Temple, 4th arrondissement of Paris (image public domain)
“Has Medusa a terrible stare?”
Yes, her glare means farewell if you dare
try to risk a fair fight,
for you’ll freeze at first sight!
And the eyes! And the snakes in her hair!
“I just knew as I rode over water
that in combat I should give no quarter,
so I kept my eyes peeled
when I looked in the shield
and I cut off her head as I fought her!”
“But I never saw severed-head djinni,
whom I popped in a sack, what a meanie!
What to do with said hag
whose head’s now in a bag?
Why, I’ll gift it to Pallas Athene!”
Said the goddess, “Why give it to me?
I have powers enough, can’t you see?”
“Well, all girls have a thing
for jewellery and bling…”
“Woah, just stop there, you young MCP!”
“No, listen, you’ll like what I say!
On your breastplate or shield it can stay.
It’ll work like a charm
your foes to disarm,
do your work as you rest and you play!”
To be concluded
Zenrinji 