I thought I’d try to write some Regency limericks…and so here goes!
Scientific discussions at White’s,
All too frequently ended in fights.
Until one gloomy day
When Beau Brummell did say:
“Far better invent brighter lights!”
Tom Belcher yelled “Miserable brat!
He’s splattered mud on my cravat!”
But Brummell looked glad,
And said “Don’t hit the lad,
You’ll be famous for looking like that.”
This world lit by candle and lamp,
Which all bears the Regency stamp,
Seems quite free and easy
In flicks from the BBC,
But the real thing was cold and too damp.
Anyone else want to give it a try? Or revise my limericks?
Cara
Cara King, who is hoping Bertie will write one in a comment…
These are priceless, Cara!! I’m nose-deep in revisions and can’t even think, but if one comes to me, I’ll add it.
You know, I tried to write a few of these, but failed utterly (and they all began “There once was a girl at Almack’s”). Kudos for these; now I know I have to respect, even more, a friend of mine who writes limericks for a (modest) living.
Poor George waited years for his dad
To either get well or go mad
Meanwhile George’s figure
Got bigger and bigger
And I can’t think of a witty last line with a reference to the huge size of his pavilion.
You’re so clever, Cara!
Aha!
A certain young lady of Almacks
Offered gents of the ton a fine bumsmack
Said one, bending over,
“It’s better than Dover
And then on to Paris and all of the way back.”
(a vague reference to the fact that English gents liked to go abroad for their more arcane entertainments)
Okay, Janet, this isn’t great, but here’s a possible last line:
Poor George waited years for his dad
To either get well or go mad
Meanwhile George’s figure
Got bigger and bigger,
As did his Pavilion, the cad!
To wangle a voucher for Almack’s,
I hit Lady Jersey with my axe.
But once she was better
The Prince sent a letter
Charging one million owed for estate tax.
Cara
Here’s my last line for Janet’s limerick:
Poor George waited years for his dad
To either get well or go mad
Meanwhile George’s figure
Got bigger and bigger
and got stuck in the door to his pad.
The “pad” being Brighton.
(good thing I don’t do this for a living)
Cara and Janet, how funny you two are!
Bonnets and fans,
My, we wouldn’t want tans;
All those accessories,
Getting wet in dories,
When you’re going to the can.
Poor George waited years for his dad,
To either get well or go mad;
Meanwhile George’s figure,
Got bigger and bigger,
And he needed corseting bad.
Poor George waited years for his dad,
To either get well or go mad;
Meanwhile George’s figure,
Got bigger and bigger,
And Brighton became all the fad.
Keira, I think your last one nailed it!
I agree, Janet.
OMG Blogger ate my limerick!
I shall try again for my end of day attempt and homage. *clears throat*
There once was a blog so risky
Twas read from here to Poughkeepsie
What’s behind a sonnet
Or beneath a bonnet
Made all the writers so frisky!
Phew. Bedtime…
Very good, janegeorge!
Jane, heh. heh. Very nice.
You are all entirely to clever for me!! This did, however, make me smile! Thank you! I am in the middle of turning a 5 page synopsis into a 3 page synopsis as The Raven’s Heart is a finalist in the Linda Howard and I have until Feb 20th to get a revised version (if I wish) of my entry AND the dreaded three page synopsis to the coordinator to be mailed to the final judge. I am really thrilled to have made the finals as Southern Magic is my home chapter! Now if I could just figure out how many times to wash this synopsis in hot water to shrink it to the right size! Maybe I could turn it into a limerick.
Good luck, O Doggie One!
Diane and Keira, I love all your lines for Janet’s limerick!
Jane, I love it! A very Sondheimian rhyme. 🙂
Louisa, best wishes on the synopsis trimming! Truly a difficult task…
Cara
Bertie, dear, won’t you come out and play with us? I’m sure you could add so much elegance to the proceedings!
In fact, I’ll even write a limerick to lure you out….here goes:
There once was a dandy named Bertie,
Who made all the women quite flirty.
But he’d turn them away,
And with elegance say,
“For you know I’ll do nothing that’s dirty!”
Cara
All right, here are a few humble contributions. (Some of them VERY humble, but be kind.)
A spherical person called Prinny,
Whose personal failings were many,
Once snacked on some glue
And buckles from his shoe,
Though he owned that they tasted “quite tinny.”
The Duke had a beautiful daughter,
And many a fine lord besought her,
Till the day she was drenched
In a lake, the poor wench–
A true Diamond of the first Water!
To the garden she wanted to go,
There to secretly meet her young Beau.
It was a sad mistake–
For the man was a Rake–
But then, she was a bit of a Hoe.
From a bit too much bad Ratafia,
The courtesan called to all “See ya!
From the ton I am banned,
But from here where I stand,
I would much rather see ya than be ya!”
At the Frost Fair the maiden got colder,
And the gin made her actions much bolder.
Though the ice seemed to tip,
She made never a slip,
But instead got a slip on the shoulder.
Todd-who’s-OK-with-the-rhyme-and-occasionally-with-keeping-time-but-whose-poems-do-tend-to-quite-abruptly-end
Oh, very well. If you must drag me away from the addictive TeleVision Device, here is my not-quite-so-humble attempt.
A POEM ABOUT ME
by Bertram St James, Exquisite
My neckcloth is utter perfection;
Of admirers I’ve quite a collection.
They copy my style
Yet on them I still smile —
Just as long as they welcome correction.
yrs,
Bertie the Beau
Todd, you win the prize. If this college professor gig doesn’t work out, you can always get work writing limericks (and I didn’t know there were actual jobs doing that!)
Bertie, you were a close second, but, I am certain, much better dressed than Todd.
Just to clarify: My friend writes the limericks for the NPR show Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me; he gets paid, but not very much. In the rest of his life, he’s a stay-at-home dad, whose wife works at a cosmetics company (lucky for me!).