Limerick Chick

The Scarecrow does have a brain, after all! After wracking my brain for three days straight, I decided to make one more go of it today and within ten minutes I had composed not one, but two limericks. On some subconcious level the poetic gears must have still been turning. The meter is wonky and the rhyme schemes are approximate, but this is as good as it gets. Without further ado, here are my rather lame entries for Lori’s Limeric Chick contest:

Entry 1:
There is a deft writer named Niobe
who uses allegory and euphony and hyperbole.
The photography – classic,
the writing – fantastic,
though some might need use of a dictionary.

Entry 2:
There was a Black surro named Moxie
who played a good joke at delivery.
The nurse with affright
exclaimed, "This baby is White!"
Moxie pointed, "He’s for them and not me."

I personally like my student’s limerick about the man who wore Hanes for headdresses better. Check out the other entries by clicking on either the button below or the one in the sidebar. Shake it to the East, shake it to the West, vote for the limerick you like the best. I think I’m done with rhyming for a while. I’ll leave it to Angelou or Nash or St. Vincent Millay, to Hughes or Frost or Claude McKay. I really should stop now.


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