Five Lines

There was a young man from Limerick
Who never managed to grasp the main ideas about his home-town's poetic export.
He didn't seem to
Understand
The basics of rhyme
Or anything about
Rhythm.
No matter how
Much
He
Tried to
Get it right he
Just couldn't manage to achieve even a vague closeness to an approximation.
Then, one day, he saw a young lady of Limerick
And he began to feel a shimmerick
Of pulsating passionate poetical
Thoroughly throbbing through him - no longer hypothetical
And it gave his hope a glimmerick
But he still wasn't quite there;
He needed
A
Little more practise
And a little
More than a passing glance
From that young lady.

12:54, Mon. 20/07/2009.




Poetry by Mark J. Wood
Read 1039 times
Written on 2009-07-20 at 14:12

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la tristesse
Love the hilarious absurdism.
2011-07-04


Zoey Jane
The concept of a muse very well portrayed
2009-10-03


alison sunderland
bloody hate limericks. bloody like this! it seems i must write more than i wanted to.
2009-09-24


alison sunderland
bloody hate limericks. bloody like this!
2009-09-24


Peter Humphreys
Probably getting down off the bar stool might help too! Peter
2009-08-06