A limerick for my wonderful husband Mark Kane on our 48th Wedding Anniversary! Thanks for 48 great years, hon! (49, if you count the time from the moment we met.)
I felt like a misfit for years:
A feeling that drove me to tears.
But my life was re-set
On the day that I met
Mark G. Kane. To my husband, Three Cheers!
A young gal was chock-full of remorse:
She was certain she’d caused a divorce,
Cuz her mom and her dad
Had split up. (She’d been bad!)
Is that woman a shrink? But of course!
“Since fresh ice cream’s my favorite vice,
My own creamery sure would be nice.
But my blood sugar’s high,”
Said the man, with a sigh.
“So I’m putting that pipe dream on ice.”
“You have homework to do, so don’t dither,”
Said the mom, with a look that could wither.
“But mom,” said her teen.
“There’s something between
Your two feet, and I’m watching it slither.”
My Dear Spring: I am rip-roaring mad,
Cuz the weather you’re bringing’s been bad.
It’s late May, and we’re still
Using heat. Such a chill
Is inflating our bill. You’re a cad!
There’s a Jan. 1 tradition, held dear,
To make vows to get up off your rear…
And reform. Well, it’s May:
Habits (BAD ones) hold sway.
But don’t worry: There’s always next year!
“It was NOT my intent to depress you,
Or to irk you or vex you or stress you.
Playing games should be fun,
So please DON’T be undone
Cuz I’m able (at times) to out-guess you.”
Fortunately, this is fictitious:
My neighbor’s a pain in the neck:
He bangs on his drums on his deck
At sunrise each day
And at midnight in May…
And loves Trump. (I may move to Quebec.)
Please don’t tell me to go with the flow,
That you don’t need directions, dear beau.
Your assurance, you see,
Is no comfort to me.
You are lost. It’s my home. I should know!
When a thoughtless young landlord can’t sleep,
He’ll start blowing his horn. He’s a creep!
And when worn tenants gripe
About noise, he’ll just snipe:
“Read your lease! That’s why rent is so cheap!”
Inspiration hits? Put it to use.
Since it’s fleeting, do give it some juice.
You must use it or lose it,
And never abuse it.
So play with that notion. Let loose!
Is creating a limerick hard?
That depends on one’s mode as a bard:
One can try to comply
With the rules, or skate by
With some “near rhyme” and meter that’s marred.
A rich fellow who lived in a mansion
Saw himself as an expert in scansion.
He’d critique without cause
Meter lacking in flaws…
Cuz he suffered from ego-expansion.
Being flattered and praised is a treat.
If sincere, it sure beats out defeat.
But I can’t understand
Laudits said on command…
And received as if warm, true, and sweet.
Are you feeling a little bit down?
Has your smile been replaced by a frown?
I’d advise you to turn
Off the news and to spurn
Online headlines. Have fun! Go to town!!
I prefer my food zesty and hot,
So please DON’T make me deal with a bot.
Getting humans to heed
My extreme spicy need?
Tough enough! Don’t replace them with ROT!!
It is quarter to four and I still
Haven’t written a thing: output nil!
I’ve had sev’ral false starts
With some lame wordplay farts…
So here’s hoping this verse fills the bill.
I attended a concert today,
Where I heard a famed oboist play.
His technique was well-honed.
But his tone? I just groaned!
So I simply was NOT blown away.
Some maintain that it’s toxic to hate
And that loathing just makes you irate.
While that might well be true,
Someone vile (you know who)
Deserves both and much more. No debate!
Brand new words are like catnip to me;
I explore roots and meaning with glee.
Once enlightened, I swoon,
Though, alas, this great boon…
Shall soon from my memory flee.
Mad Kane (Madeleine Begun Kane) is a writer, musician, and "recovering lawyer." She won the Robert Benchley Society Award For Humor and enjoys writing limericks, song parodies, and current events haiku.
You can email her at madkane@madkane.com, visit her political humor blog, or stop by her home page.