Our pear tree, minus partridges.
This is for the latest limerick challenge at Mind & Life Matters, which I’m having trouble linking to (Inlinkz-wise) just now. So, go read ’em, and thanks for reading mine!
Within every green or gravid thing,
something rests on sublime wing.
One sapient heart can never know
the pain of the taproot, or the furrow.
“When I’ve light,” says the coal-trapping girl, “I sing.”
Oh, also, I’m sorry for the “Daily Fail” link about the coal trapper (ignore all that celebrity junk in the page gutter); that’s the place I found the quote, hanging there as it is. As you can perhaps intuit, I’ve been doing research on child welfare/child labor in the 19th century, and from this, I’ve concocted a “soft” horror story. (It’s out for submission . . . wish me luck!) Also, I #amwriting something in the Steampunk vein; it’s been an education so far. How about you?
I’m ready for my close-up.
Long time, no see, dear readers. I hope spring (or autumn, if you’re in the Southern hemisphere) is treating you well.
I’ve just come out of editing land for a brief fly-over of this blog, and a limerick has settled in my mind. So that’s what you get for this posting. You have the Doc to thank (or not!) for inspiring this limerick. It’s part of the Limerick Challenge, week 12, orchestrated by the wonderful Rashmi at Mind & Life Matters. Do follow her for limericks, novel updates, and much more, and be sure to read the limericks she has on offer.
I don’t deviate too far from the ‘original’ limerick idea—insulting, bawdy, etc. But that’s my impression. What do you think?
A genie or?
Limerick for the Loveless
I once met the man of my dreams
But what he was, was not what he seems
Said he’d grant wishes
(Including doing the dishes)
In retrospect, I shoulda reached for Jim Beam.