His name was Rhyming McKibbon,
Whose limericks won a blue ribbon.
He composed day and night,
But ended in a fight,
Because he wrote love poetry to Mrs. Gibbon.
I gave you too much,
Power is your trip or is it a crutch
Overseas did you please,
Found yourself a tease
Was it that Dutch?
Did you know,
I love you so
Babble to Papa and Mother,
To have another
Wanting your family to grow!
Hello Margarida - Iāve been a teacher for so many years, I canāt help but notice how close youāve come to writing a true limerick rhythm in this one, and canāt resist making a few suggestions. Just a few minor changes and youāll have it, anapests and all!
Hereās the story of Rhyming McKibbon
Whose limericks won a blue ribbon:
He composed day and night,
But went down in a fight,
Writing love poems meant for Ms. Gibbon!
It has to be read aloud to get the full impact of the anapests!
(limericks can have three syllables - strong-weak-weak)
(Mrs. has two syllables, Ms. only one!)
I think itās worth the time to count syllables and change words to get the weak-weak-strong beats. Itās really a great exercise for writers! I pay close attention to the rhythm of words in all of my stories and have been known to spend a day or two deciding on just the right word.
Itās been fun to watch your limerick evolution!
Thank you so much for your support Julie. It was immensely kind of you to improve my poem and bring it closer to a true limerick. I see what you mean about rhythm!
Thinking himself the poet golden,
Wanting all, his poems beholden.
Imagery sublime,
Rattling rhythm and rhyme,
Couldnāt his arrogance withholden!
Yes, yes and yes!
A perfect limerick about a truly great man, the greatest composer in history. You are a wordsmith extraordinaire, Julian.
1 Like
A man was inspired to write at night,
The stillness gave him deep insight,
He had a whisper,
From a midnight lisper,
Suddenly, he became afraid to write.
Nice one, Thompson! So glad you joined us in the limerick writing! Itās fun, isnāt it?
Yes, truly. Iām glad I could join. I love writing limericks. However, sometimes getting the rhyme flow can be challenging.
From writing he took a hiatus,
His characters thought, āHe hates us!ā
He searched high and low,
For someone just so,
But to Vegas, went his afflatus!
Facing an eleventh-hour deadline to meet,
Devoid of inspiration, feeling beat,
Neighbor wants to chat,
By my flat, fancy that,
Iām drained, and facing defeatās tough heat.
Composing for the hurdy-gurdy
To celebrate his loveās thirty.
But she called him a swine;
She was still twenty-nine.
He swapped instrument for a turkey.
Author thought and scratched his beard,
As he flipped through his novel dog-eared.
He was pleased to gloating
His work promoting
Though not popular or revered.
Duncan desired to draft a ditty,
Wrote one very willy-nilly,
Pretty, witty, amazing,
To earn lots of appraising,
Pity itās too itty-bitty!
The novelist from Hurly-Burly,
Wrote on pages shiny and pearly.
Composed with razzle,
And lots of dazzle
To impress his authoress girlie.
He had a peculiar book form;
Imagery was like a raging storm,
Characters turbulent.
Storylines violent.
Fled with piranhas to reform.
The lyrist, a raving lunatic,
Wrote about fish riding pogo sticks.
He tried slapstick humour
Was sent off in schooner
Returned home green because seasick.
Wow Margarida, I enjoyed this! I read it a few times. It could be perceived as someone who is arrogant. Few words say so much! You are really good at this!
He devised way to cheat at rhyming,
Adding to every sentence end -ing.
Other poets called him fraud,
Cheat, abhorred, flawed, absurd.
Smugly shrugging, he joked, āStop whining!ā