Grl has given me a poetry book, and it has inspired me to verse. “You mean ‘worse’,” observes Grl, reading my first attempt.

I don’t know. There are some dodgy efforts in the book:

A mathematician named Hall,
Has a hexagonal ball,
the cube of its weight,
Times his pecker plus eight,
Is his phone number – give him a call!

Hmmm. An equation with too many variables for me to solve.

A Southern hillbilly named Hollis
Used possums and snakes as his solace;
His offspring had scales
And prehensile tails,
And voted for Governor Wallace.

That one whipped right over young Grl’s head.

I heard of a story so fraught
With disaster, of balls that got caught,
When a chap took a crap
In the woods, and a trap
Underneath… oh, I can’t bear the thought!

That made me wince!

I could go on for ages. There are funny ones, sad ones, ones that make your eyes water, ones that have you flailing around on the floor helpless with laughter. But my favorite limerick of all time, sometimes proclaimed as the world’s best, is this one:

There was a young plumber of Leigh
Was plumbing his girl by the sea.
Cried the girl, “Cease your plumbing!
“I think someone’s coming!”
Said the plumber, still plumbing, “It’s me!”

And let me end as I began, with one of my own:

Skinny milk, fake frankfurts, soy cheeses;
My diet has nothing that pleases.
But even a wafer
In church is no safer,
I can’t believe it’s not Jesus!

—Guy Sez

–Guy Sez