Long, long ago, in days of old A Limerick got chaste by a Knight so bold Neck to neck with him in speed She failed, to outrun his steed T'is why, in nine months time, the Limerick foaled
Long long ago in days of yore Limericks were virginal and pure Then elites took them to bed ...... and chivalry being dead They'll not blush if you call them whore
Not a limerick, but a piece of found poetry from earlier this week (late April) that slotted into a memory of another poem from a long time ago. Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed, Droops on the little hands little gold head. Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares! The Mablethorpe Webcam is Awaiting Repairs.