I'm posting this here for dear Helen,
Who at first thought her thread was a melon,
Now your limerick blitz
Is one of our hits,
Where the sequel will end, there's no tellin'!

Edited-in by request for continuity's sake:

>by Milum

Overheard comments made by the prim, proper, pedant, ladies that will attend the
Wordapalooza June 2002

“That Milum is the Final Gentleman,
And who would of thought the things that he has thunk,
He is so charming,
And no one he’s harming,
Lying -not laying- there on the floor, dead drunk.”

Per pe bul reztreshain bazman
Tsa oteziaz bil tsa bri dan
Stutxan tsugatzsoo
Hiaas txaul woo
Treshank sendeiga kol it han

http://home.mn.rr.com/wwftd/

In the immortal words of consuelo:
tsuwm, you want fries with that?

There they'll be by the side of the pool
Five thousand napkins to mop up the drool
Musick and Milum George Dickeld
I mean to say they'll be pickled
Each trying to win the "most enigmatic" duel.

Overheard comments made by the prim, proper, pedant, ladies that will attend the
Wordapalooza June 2002
Guess the resident hussy wouldn't qualify as a member of this group, right?& <EG>

There once was a Lady named Helen,
Who despaired of her erratic spelling,
But her wit was so wise
Her observations were prized
By AWADers. That goes without telling.

A gourmet from east of Siam,
Had a penchant for green eggs and ham,
with slices of quince
and after-dinner mints
which he'd eat whilst perched on a jamb.

Yippee - they've made a comeback!
For a while had ceased the limerick attack.
But I must confess
I did miss them - yes!
Now I'm no longer a sad sack.

A former sad sack (now recanted)
recomposed poems she'd once taken for granted
inspiration came flush
admonitions aside she did brush
to write limericks - inspired, never canted!

It's seems i have started a trend
It may go on with out end
I'll sit back
cut me some slack
from limericking, i am on the mend!

Oh, Helen, don't be hard-hearted.
Please help finish what you have started.
My mind can't get free
Of your limerick-ery.
From this rhythm, it seems, I'll ne'er be parted!

Why is it that some folks get furious,
And lapse into language injurious?
This descent into swearing
Is quite overbearing.
A habit unpleasant - but curious.

Who here displays prediliction
To loud, uncontrolled malediction?
If memory should fail ya
The term's coprolalia,
A serious mental affliction.

Ill winds can always be found
at times, and in places, they abound
Be we can have fun,
ill winds,we can shun
If we don't hear them, do they have sound?

The thread is called Wordplay and Fun,
And nobody here is a nun!
A limerick by nature
Is ribald nomenclature,
So the prudes can go soak in the sun!

who's that knocking my back door?
what ever is he doing that for?
To my chagrin,
he forced his way in!
OH My! OH me! i might end asking for more!

In private my comma was dropped,
I see, now, I shouldn't have knocked.
But my prediliction
Is to come through the kitchen,
Though the door, there, is so tightly locked!

Remember Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack?
With silver buttons all down her back, back, back?
she met up with WO'N.
her buttons are undone,
and they're together now in the sack, sack, sack!

By limerick I lose my addiction
This doesn't match any prediction!
It's not written in sand
That I'll be an old hand
It's a fact, truth's stranger than fiction!

Ill winds can always be found
at times, and in places, they abound
Be we can have fun,
ill winds,we can shun
If we don't hear them, do they have sound?

Helen's completely correct:
In a dialogue of intellect,
Swearing and shouting
And spewing and spouting
Are ill winds one cannot respect.

So remember who was guilty of it,
And remember too who rose above it.
For the good of the board
Which one should be ignored?
And which one should be told to shove it?

Words written in sand are so fragile
That their fleeting employ must be agile,
From 'addict' to 'old'
Naughty habits grow bold,
Tellin' time, "In my heart, I'm still bad, chile!"

----------------------------------

Congrats! No more 'addict', dear Connie!
Your 'old hand' is cool, well-earned, and bonnie!
We will never grow bored
With the joy you have stored,
Boy, those mushrooms must make you real goney!

(and for ending like that, I'm 'real goney', too!)...well, try to find somethin' else to rhyme with Connie and bonnie, go 'head!

He're to the witty verbality
Of our goddess of pure femme fatale-ity,
Who is now far more choosy
Than in days as an Enthusi-
asst searching for a-moral-ity.

[Forgive me, Connie -- at least I didn't use carnality and sexuality.

http://wordsmith.org/board/showflat.pl?Cat=&Board=announcements&Number=42127, starting Oct. 3; and
http://wordsmith.org/board/showflat.pl?Cat=&Board=wordplay&Number=42170; same time (or a bit earlier), same subject

Newbie and Strange, i understand
seem less desireable than Old Hand
but wit and grace
should rule this place,
An ideal, maybe, but wouldn't it be grand!

if we treat titles as Pooh Bah or Addict
as if they were some kind of edict
instead of whim
who's virtue is slim
then virtualy empty post to achive, i predict!

Friendship here is silver, shiny bright
to maintain it, we polish with all our might
but brimston and fire
tarnish desire
so from such caustic vapors, take flight!

as just a short aside, brimestone, is a burning sulfur, and sulfur dioxide is a prime cause of tarnish on silver. -- i started out trying to rewrite the girlscout song about "Make new friend, keep the old, One is silver, one is gold"