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.
Re-incarnation. This seems as good a place as any to mention it, that my late mother's maiden name, Eluned Morgan, is exactly the same as the new First Minister for Wales. Now don't start getting bossy, mother. Remember you're now a Hughes, like me, sort of thing.
Well, frankly, I have to be blunt While I try to put on a brave front. Since the day he stood down This bard's worn a frown. Oh how I miss Jeremy Hunt!
We’ve got a new maid called Chrysanthemum Who said, “I have just come from Grantham, m’m. I lost my last place In the sorest disgrace, ‘Cos I snored through the National Anthem, m’m.
When the space-time continuum pauses 'Cause a flaw in the temporal laws is Redirecting time's courses The effect then (of course) is That effects will effect their own causes
There was a young woman from Aber Who grew sick of this cad who would grab 'er Deploying her charms She broke both his arms— Whence his gasted was utterly flabber
Hidden textAuthor note: The use of the antiquated term cad is for comic effect within the limerick form, and is not intended to in any way trivialise the seriousness of sexual assault. Also, while the author understands the use of violence in response to such assault, this should not be take to mean that he necessarily condones it. But, to be clear, the cad definitely deserved it.
Is it true? That we're reaching the end of this website that's been my old friend? I'll miss mc5 When no longer alive But closures have long been the trend.
So long and farewell it's been fun This twenty first century run Fine games and neat verses Those elegant curses What now friends - when all's said and done?
The Crescent shall never die While there's still two alive who can try And express themselves funnily Rhymingly, punnily, Making games of the times that go by.
Want to play? Online Crescenteering lives on at Discord