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Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Limerick Housekeeping

. . . Which is not the same as housekeeping limericks. (Would those be limericks which keep house, or limericks about housekeeping? Dunno.) Things get a little strange by the end, anyway, once the discussion moves beyond an important life lesson.

One concerned reader, upon reading the post in which I announced the winners of the Third Annual Groundhog Day Limerick Contest, helpfully and with some consternation alerted me that someone else sent some entries, which, apparently, I never received.

It's true. I didn't get them, even though he sent them in plenty of time to meet the contest deadline. Technically, I'm off the hook, because the official terms say I have to receive entries by the deadline. However, I'm disinclined to dismiss worthy limericks.

Here, therefore, are two by Californian Philip Nelson:

A groundhog referred to as "Phil"
scampers out from his digs in the hill,
whereupon, seeing crowds,
and because there are clouds,
Punxsy lingers outside in the chill.

And:

A fellow Phil styled Punxsutawney
emerges all fitful and yawny
from his underground suite,
thence to beat a retreat
from a shadow he thinks looks too brawny.

It's true that, without specific confirmation, one should never assume the safe arrival of an e-mail message. As an intelligent and highly-trained legal professional, Philip should know and never forget this. But we want him to remember this crucial life lesson with happy thoughts, not sad ones; it's the "spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down" principle, you see.

So it's executive decision time . . .

I'm implementing said sweetness in three phases. The first is the glory of having his name and his verse published here at the blog. The second is a stanza or two of limerick I haven't even thought up yet, as I write this. The third is a small, tangible token of the blogosphere's debt to him, which I will handle offline.

As to the fresh limerick (second item on the happy list), let's see what comes out . . .

Dear Phil,
         As the judge in this case,
I'm disposed to show mercy, erase
The dark deed that you wrought,
Mailing verse I ne'er got.
I herewith and therefore grant a place

To your lim'ricks, which honor the 'Hog --
Not in legalese, built to befog,
But fair rhyme! Now I merely
End,
         Yours most sincerely,
         (Signed) David, Chief Bard of the Blog

I really had no idea what to do with this post after . . . that. Then the phone rang. It was a woman I know, who lives in another time zone, which I am now thinking is a very good thing. During the course of our brief conversation, she suggested the possibility of her putting on a fake beard she has prepared (!) and sneaking inconspicuously (!) . . . somewhere. I don't even want to know where she might be going, where a bearded woman might be inconspicuous. All I really want to say is -- check that, all I dare to say is -- she's not on my side of the family.

Oh, and this: Happy Tuesday, everyone. Thanks for reading.

Copyright 2010 by David Rodeback.
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