'Twas the night before Christmas and all
Panto Dames had gone to the ball
Not one ugly sister
to ruin the vista
Cinders was left, with mice et al.
It's over, you've eaten. Go home!
Do not roam over land, sea or foam
And don't you dare linger
Or phantom flan flinger
Will splatter your cranial dome - is it me, or have limerick standards slipped lately, particularly at MCiOS ?
The winter sun shines on my screen (Phil) It's not you. Rhythm and humour in short supply - even rhyme sometimes.
Why, oh why, is this golden beam
So bright, yet so cold
And so young yet so old | [Phil] I agree. It was never brilliant (check the archives for evidence), but the art of scansion in particular seems to be crumbling lately.
(Compare some our current efforts with the Platonic limerick)
Only indoors this scene should be seen.
There once was a lim'rick so poor
Out of twenty, I'd give it a four
That lousy attempt
Was crude and unkempt