Monday, January 7, 2013

A Tame Claim/By Stealth

(Written for Mad Kane's Limerick Blog)


A fellow would frequently claim

That the lion he played with was tame

But it bit off his head
And now he's quite dead
And no-one remembers his name!
A lady would frequently claim
That she was a girl without shame.
She took off her gear
And allowed men to leer
And she said it was only a game.
A fellow would  frequently claim
That he felt he should  dress as a dame
But he went a bit far
When he stole his wife's bra
And chose Tinker-Bell as his name.

(Written for The Mag illustration)


I left the table stealthily,
 Said I wanted to gaze at the moon.
I couldn't stay at the table
As she lifted up her spoon.
For I am her husband's lover,
And I've poisoned her desert,
For seeing her sitting smiling there
Really hurt, it really hurt.
Of course, he was smiling back at her
But I knew he played a part;
He's told me he doesn't love her,
So let the drama start!
I'd secreted the capsule of strychnine
In my little reticule.
I hope her death is speedy....
I'm not one to be cruel.
I dropped it into her pudding
Among the nuts and fruit...
So much kinder than a bullet,
Bullets are hard to shoot.
The moonlight's flooding the garden...
Ah yes! That's a lover's moon.
I can hear her coughing!
We'll be together soon!

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