She asked me for an obit and I'm here to say I'm on it.
"A limerick," she said, "should do,"
And maybe, in fact, 'twould do.
But, damn! I'm sure you know: Serena deserves a sonnet.
That said, for Southern Writer I could say the same,1
Whose dedication to the art that bears her name
Often compelled her to write
Far into or through the night,
Working smart and hard to win her and her muse's fame.2
_____________________
- Original version:
That said, I could say the same for Southern Writer,
Who, if I couldn't think of anything brighter,
Suggested I could simply
Get off rather limply
With something like "she often wrote into the nighter."
- Earlier version of this last line:
Playing smart and hard to win her sacred muse's game.
If you gotta go, what a way to go, memorialized in a limerick! And -- and I'm getting a sonnet? Woo-hoo! Thank you, my dear. Now I can croak in peace.:)
ReplyDeleteI'm on it....
ReplyDeleteVery nice, Moristotle. I think. Not quite sure what the last line means, but hey, I always enjoy being immortalized, especially when I'm being killed off.
ReplyDeleteWell, I'm not entirely sure what the muse's "game" is either, but I was assuming that it includes writing a bestselling book. Or one, at least, that deserves to find, and actually does in some way find, a large number of appreciative readers. May this happen, that this limericist's blessing for you, Southern Writer.
ReplyDeleteHmm, I do see that "to win...game" suggests a competition with the muse, which was not my intention. I'll have to work this yet some more!
ReplyDeleteYou did a fine job and I thank you profusely.
ReplyDeleteMy pleasure. I'm delighted that you like it.
ReplyDeleteYou've done a fine job, Moristotle, by golly!
You ought to be pleased, maybe even jolly.
You put some rhymes together,
And now I wonder whether
You'll do something seasonal, with holly.