By Morris Dean
Sam as a kid sang sweeter than he spoke,
but after age thirteen, when his voice broke,
no matter how he squeezed his throat,
he couldn't croon a single note;
he could, though, squeak and squawk and screech and croak.
[Authorial Note: I drafted the limerick in a dream between approximately 3 & 4 a.m. on Tuesday, May 27, after which I abruptly woke up, seemingly worried that I wouldn't be able to remember it. After going over it a few times to try to make it stick, I proceeded to write a limerick commenting on what had happened. Unfortunately, I have no recollection of the second limerick.]
_______________
Copyright © 2014 by Morris Dean
| Comment box is located below |
Well I can see I'm about to get bumped from the Second Saturday slot. Who needs sonnets anymore? Now, Morris, in "light" of another recent posting, your assignment is to rewrite the book of Genesis in limerick form. Not only would that give the reader a new perspective (i.e. that "truth" and "literal" are not equivalent), but would also give back to God her sense of humor: the Bible was a better book before they took out all the jokes.
ReplyDeleteEarwig, absolutely, resolutely no! – no chance of your 2nd Saturday column's being bumped. Besides, your adopting sister would never stoop so low as to draw lines for limericks. What a come-down that would be after limning Eric Meub's glorious sinners. [Ha! "sinners" resulted from my maverick smarty-pants phone's automatically correcting one or more typos I committed in trying to enter "sonnets" with my thumbs.]
DeleteAnd what an idea: to render Genesis in limericks, with Ms. God's jokes restored. I'd better undertake that soon, however, before Kyle prevails and I convert to True Belief. [See the ongoing commentary on last week's "Thor's Day" column. Plus, I need to check out with my muse whether she is in sisterly contact with God in order to acquire permission to access the celestial trove of divine humor.]
I fear you need to speak to someone about your dreams. There may be a hidden meaning or warning even. smile
ReplyDeleteEd, please define "need"; my own fear is that psychoanalytic intervention might turn off rather that open further the spigot through which my muse and I are communicating. Or can you recommend a psychiatrist who specializes in roto-rooting the channels?
DeleteThis may be a first - the music column rendered in limerick form. Whether THAT's a first or not, it's definitely the first limerick the author EVER dreamed, although he admits to having dreamed UP quite a few.
ReplyDeleteDid it start: "There once was a young maid from Siam..."?
Delete