Many hundreds of moons ago (literally), one of my brothers Hidden textnot NotJohn and I composed some limericks based on Welsh counties. I've attempted to dredge up and reconstruct three of them.
A Methodist preacher from Gwynedd Said “The man who continually synedd Goes to hell when he dies— ’Less he scores lots of tries When the Kingdom of Heaven he wynedd”
There was an old actor from Powys Whose Richard showed dubious prowys “The winter!” he went “Of our discontent!” (Always forgetting the “Nowys”)
A hopeless romantic from Dyfed Said “Come see the world, my belyfed!” But when they got no ferthyr Than a guest house in Merthyr She quite rightly told him to styfed
A bad boring bard from Glamorgan Wrote verses about his own organ Should you read them, be sure To give up by line four— At which point the conclusion is foregone
Rewilding is the thing in Clwyd Though the species defined are quite fluid: I once met a bear Which gave me quite a scare For into my pants I just pwyd.
[Rosie] Thank you. And of course it is; how embarrassing. Can I restore some of my semi-Welsh cred in your eyes if I tell you I do know how to spell (and pronounce) Llanfairpg?
(CdM) That's an easy one - just look at the signposts - they say LLANFAIR P.G. as do the bus destination blinds. The 58-letter version (a 19th century commercial gimmick) is for tourists only. 0
They staged the Eisteddfod in Gwent So long-winded Rhys packed his tent. He was, as things stood, (and as poets go) good. So, as good poets go, off he went.