call for limericks

[huntertitus]

On boats, you know, Dave-by-the-sea
Into the wind you mustn't pee
For your fun will be spoiled
If your clothes are all soiled
Point it downwind's the advice from me

[DavebytheSea]

For once you are right Hunter-T
The subject was dealt with by me
On various threads
Pertaining to heads
On a yacht when afloat on the sea.

The origin of the term heads was discussed a long time ago on this forum. At the time, I wrote:

Absolutely! Heads it is on the boat (there should be some pun here about tails you loose, I think - tho it is too early in the morning for my brain).

The origin of the term comes, I think, from the old sailing ships which, being largely square rigged (and therefore usually sailing downwind), had a useful "dropping" point from the cat heads (the beam protruding from a little aft of the bowsprit whence the anchor was shipped). Thus the jolly tar would go for'ard to the heads to do his business so that the outgoings (with any accompanying smells) were carried off downwind. The senior officers of course had other arrangements.

I should add that these days it is considered the height of bad manners to vomit or pee to weather when invited aboard a friend's yacht for a sail. The blow back not only affects the perpetrator, but often other members of the crew as well - which can be most disagreeable for all concerned.

[huntertitus]

I think you're having problems with rhyme
Using "Hunter and T" all the time
You can rhyme "huntertitus"
With "please dont invite us"
Which isn't a poetry crime

The good thing about Huntertitus
Is that it rhymes with St Vitus
Whose dance is so queer
That you really should veer
Towards the dogs that do not bite us

And many a word rhymes with titus
you could try the obvious "fight us"
you could also try
when it's dark by and by
When the lights are all out you could light us

[huntertitus]

Now poor old D.B.T.S.
Has made a serious mess
When he says Hunter Tilter
Has his rhyme out of kilter
It really could not matter less

You think that my bunnies are chicks
But I do not get sensual kicks
My bunnies alas
Are my children you ass!
It's your dirty mind you must fix!

I am married to dear pretty Jane
We travelled to Paris by train
We climbed up the Eiffel
Which was not a trifle
In bare feet at night in the rain!

[cj]

The Omnificent English Dictionary in Limerick Form
http://www.oedilf.com/db/Lim.php

[DavebytheSea]

The Omnificent English Dictionary in Limerick Form
http://www.oedilf.com/db/Lim.php

Though the site that you mention is cool,
You have broken the manifest rule
To write here in verse
(Whether good, blank, or worse)
I'm afraid you've been rather a fool.

For now you must punishéd be
As all who have erred will agree
For we who've transgressed
In the past have confessed
By rhyming our apologee.

PS You are allowed to write prose footnotes etc.

[DavebytheSea]

Now poor old D.B.T.S.
Has made a serious mess
When he says Hunter Tilter
Has his rhyme out of kilter
It really could not matter less

You think that my bunnies are chicks
But I do not get sensual kicks
My bunnies alas
Are my children you ass!
It's your dirty mind you must fix!

I am married to dear pretty Jane
We travelled to Paris by train
We climbed up the Eiffel
Which was not a trifle
In bare feet at night in the rain!

It is well known to psychologists,
When recounting their dreams, it assists
Their patients to tell
Of their sex lives as well
In symbols of trains, towers and mists.

But take heart my dear Huntertitus!
Your bare feet may never excite us.
But the thought of your Jane
Pursued in the rain
Cannot fail to enrapture verse writers.

[Mid A 15]

There was a Charles Lamb writing prize

To me it would be no surprise

If the winner once turned out to be

Our very own Davebythesea

As he's erudite, poetic and wise!


(Mine's a pint of bitter if we ever meet )

[DavebytheSea]

I well remember that prize -
Indeed I had a few tries.
But to many who view
The things that I do
That probably is no surprise.

[huntertitus]

Now poor old D.B.T.S.
Has made a serious mess
When he says Hunter Tilter
Has his rhyme out of kilter
It really could not matter less

You think that my bunnies are chicks
But I do not get sensual kicks
My bunnies alas
Are my children you ass!
It's your dirty mind you must fix!

I am married to dear pretty Jane
We travelled to Paris by train
We climbed up the Eiffel
Which was not a trifle
In bare feet at night in the rain!

It is well known to psychologists,
When recounting their dreams, it assists
Their patients to tell
Of their sex lives as well
In symbols of trains, towers and mists.

But take heart my dear Huntertitus!
Your bare feet may never excite us.
But the thought of your Jane
Pursued in the rain
Cannot fail to enrapture verse writers.

You ARE such a wag D.B.Sea
To thus take the piss out of me
But it was no dream
Even though it did seem
A little unlikely to me

We really did chase through the rain
Myself and delectable Jane
Though my feet they did not
Excite her a lot
I hope the between hit the spot

[DavebytheSea]

The "between" you say hit the spot
But you do not elucidate what
Exactly you mean
When you talk of "between".
But then, perhaps, you should not.

[huntertitus]

The "between" you say hit the spot
But you do not elucidate what
Exactly you mean
When you talk of "between".
But then, perhaps, you should not.

Now don't be pedantic, dear Dave
You're starting to rant and to rave
The thing in between
Could be seen as obscene
It's a secret I'll take to the grave

[DavebytheSea]

Nor will I ask of you what
Exactly you mean by the "spot"
It would be a shame
To embarrass dear Jane
By writing of what you should not.

[greg]

Many thanks to my un-named friend who gave me the inspriation for this one:

She was only the vicar's daughter,
And he know that he shouldn't aught'er
Be he went and did,
She had a kid
And marched him straight up to the alter

[DavebytheSea]

Richard's turned awfully green
I wonder just where he has been ....
They say he got stuck,
Our poor Richard Ruck,
But in what just remains to be seen.

Was it something to do with a Titch-
Marsh, or similar something which,
Harsh tho he thinks,
The gardening stinks
Will forever be queering his pitch?