I could examine the beauty and complexities of the great English poets, such as William Wordsworth, John Keats or Pam Ayres, but I don’t really enjoy poetry so I’m not going to.
However, I do like the odd limerick, the ruder and sillier the better. And the form is English so it still counts as English poetry. In my opinion.
The limerick packs laughs anatomical
Into space that is quite economical.
But the good ones I’ve seen
So seldom are clean
And the clean ones so seldom are comical.
Edward Lear popularised the limerick in his 1846 Book of Nonsense, such as the one below:
There was an Old Man with a gong,
Who bumped at it all day long;
But they called out, ‘O law!
You’re a horrid old bore!’
So they smashed that Old Man with a gong.
Here’s my quick attempt:
There was a young man from England
Who played lead trumpet in a brass band.
His lips were so strong
And his fingers most long
That with the ladies he was aways in demand.
Anyone else a fan of the limerick?
BARBED WORDS 