When did you last jot down a limerick? Perhaps at primary school, maybe a rude one at high school, a clever one at work or in a writing class? Chances are you have never heard or read a limerick (depending on your age or location) and if this is the case, you are missing out on centuries of tireless amusement.
In my opinion limericks are not classy nor really poetic, and can be risqué, but they are a fun five-lines with a specific rhyme scheme (AABBA) and a nice sing-song beat ending with a great punch line. Let me show you two examples with classic endings: (A) “I sat next to the Duchess at tea, Distressed as a person could be. Her rumblings abdominal Were simply phenomenal – And everyone thought it was me!” (Anonymous) (B) There was an old man of Nantucket Who kept all his cash in a bucket; But his daughter, named Nan, Ran away with a man, And as for the bucket, Nantucket. (Anonymous)
Now I will show you four of my own attempts at limerick writing and notice the rhyming format: (1) There was an old lady from Wolfbane, Day after day she had pain. She cursed the cold weather, And her shoes made of leather, But really she suffered chilblain. (2) Brisbane city is deemed arcane, Said to have sunshine never rain. Such a fable the locals dictate, To keep a high tourism rate, And increase their monetary gain. (3) There was a young man from Bugbane, Who suffered from bad stomach pain. He ate onions on the job, His boss said ‘you’re fired Bob’. So he went home on the early train. (4) Wild wind on the beach today, No children or dogs out to play. I zipped up my jacket, Trussed up like a packet, Then my hat flew into the bay!
Sherwood Arboretum Brisbane volunteer workers preserving the future. Photograph courtesy of Sherwood Arboretum Committee 2024. Get active in 2025!
Exercise followed by quiet contemplation does wonders for your brain and your inner self.
Charles Allston Collins masterpiece titled ‘Convent Thoughts’ circa 1851 held by Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. Charles Allston Collins (1828-1873) was a British painter, writer and illustrator associated with the Pre-Raphaelite era.
Linda wasn’t quite sure if she should go. After all she had never been invited into the manager’s office upstairs.
Viv the senior receptionist snapped “Please put this envelope on his desk,” then added ominously “and come straight back.”
Possibly seeing the shock and hesitancy in the young girl’s eyes, Viv softened her voice. “Go on, love, he won’t bite and you’ll be back in time for the fire drill.”
It wasn’t biting or fire drill that Linda was worried about. His temper was known throughout the industry, voices were lowered in his presence, the accountant scampered around, flapping papers for signatures when a meeting was due, and shareholders routinely refused tea and biscuits on the pretext of another urgent meeting.
There was no staff interaction and she had the feeling that the boss did not know their names, or did not care, because they came and went on a regular basis. What if he shouted at her? What if she fainted? But Linda enjoyed her reception work, the customers were nice, although edgy, constantly looking over their shoulders.
The small flat switchboard was new and easy to use and the company name was not hard to pronounce when she answered in that singsong voice of all new receptionists.
Plus she had an intercom and a proper ergonomic faux leather desk chair which swivelled.
The other employees were mildly friendly as if to keep her at arms length because she could be gone by the end of the month. She needed this job, she was going to stick it out, and the gloss had not yet worn off. However, she did not want to have anything to do with the notorious Mr. Arthur Roberts of Roberts & Co Pty Ltd.
Linda whispered to one of the office girls “Maybe it would be better if you popped it on his desk, Joanne.” The reply was quick. “Too busy minding your switchboard.”
“Get hopping,” instructed Viv, “and put it in the middle of the sheet of blotting paper on his desk.” Apparently Mr. Roberts still used a fountain pen. Occasionally it leaked Quink and he often requested a document be retyped due to a spreading stain.
Linda thought it was all too quaint and old-fashioned compared to what she was taught in business college but she went along with it. Until he started shouting at someone.
One of her duties was typing invoices on the new IBM Golf Ball typewriter. It made a satisfying clatter. And for the time being she was the envy of her friends, many of whom had left school to work in the public service or one of the lesser banks in town. Linda had her sights set on the travel industry and the glamour of free flights. Leaving Roberts & Company far behind.
Ignoring the office boy’s wink, she stood up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before smoothing her dress, always grateful she did not have to wear a skirt and blouse emblazoned with the company name. An airline hostess uniform would be far more elegant.
The shaky old lift in the foyer stank of cigarettes and Linda had taken an instant dislike to it. Fortunately it only took a few minutes to go up the back stairs where she emerged onto the luxurious deep blue carpet of the fifth floor. Then realisation hit her.
The envelope was still on her desk.
With a huff of annoyance, she was turning back to the stairwell when she heard raised voices. One, of course, was Mr. Roberts and the other was a very angry woman. Moving a bit closer she saw that Mr. Roberts office door was ajar so she stood listening. It was obviously an argument over money. She had heard enough of those from her parents when her father handed over his weekly pay packet.
Linda sucked in a deep breath then slowly, inexorably, found herself drawn towards the heavily panelled door. There was a gasp, the sound of a pained groan and something fell. A spurt of adrenaline coursed through her body before her brain caught up. She turned back to the stairwell door but was too late to stop a fast moving woman reaching it first.
This wild-eyed woman sported a nasty red stain across her chest but had no difficulty in pushing Linda aside. Just as the woman entered the fire door, Linda went into her brother’s favourite soccer slide. She tripped the woman who staggered down several metal steps before falling flat on her face on the next level. There was a metallic clang as a knife fell from her grasp.
“Hey, what’s going on up there?” shouted Viv from below.
A wet cough behind Linda made her turn around, slowly, slowly.
There was Mr. Roberts. He stood with his face the same shade as the blotting paper pressed against his left shoulder. “I’ve buzzed security,” he said. “Best if you ring for an ambulance.” He swayed then sank to the plush carpet and passed out.
“Viv,” screamed Linda, “get the first aid kit!”
At home next day, after several telephone calls from police and workmates, Linda was told different versions of what must have transpired but the knife wound was definitely inflicted by Mr. Robert’s estranged wife Eileen.
“The person you sent catapulting down the back stairs,” Viv observed dryly, “that’s one way to miss fire drill.” The envelope remained undelivered.
Mr. Roberts was recovering in hospital and probably shouting at the nurses. Eileen was held in another wing under police guard pending investigation. Linda, on the other hand, was ensconced at home in her favourite lounge chair, feet up and a big bowl of mixed lollies beside her on the TV tray.
“What if I had not gone up those stairs?” Linda mused, then shrugged it off.
“It was the shock really,” she explained to everyone who called to asked how she was feeling. “My legs just went all wobbly.” That was her story and she was sticking to it.
NOTE: Originally titled “What If” a Short Story for U3A Writing Class read at end-of-term. Fictional events but some elements are retro autobiographical. First draft Wednesday 4th September 2024. GBW.
“Hands up all the blog writers who wrote about their experiences of living through Covid-19 and its aftermath. Okay, I will join your ranks and become one of those adding something to world history with a personal experience; of course the names have been changed to protect the innocent.”
During the time of the worldwide Covid-19 pandemic, Angela and her daughter Jenny decided they would go for a walk every evening. Just a short one around a block or two, maybe across the park to upset the plovers in the damp grass, then home again. A walk was especially invigorating during the colder months of August in Brisbane. It got them out of the house, away from the air-con heating, into the refreshing chill of the cool night air. They donned jackets and beanies and shoved gloves in their pockets just in case of light rain. The suburban streets were deserted yet the night was infused with noise, the dull murmur of a distant highway, the sound of birds settling in to roost, a possum scuttling across a rooftop, the whoosh-whoop of fruit bat wings as they scoped out a mulberry tree or date palm and then crash-landed into the foliage. Owls were heard but never seen, unlike car drivers who appeared to have lost all concept of care and responsibility, arbitrarily speeding through red traffic lights because the streets were empty. However, while joggers, scooters, dog owners and their canines were tucked up in front of their preferred screens, a full moon would rise and cats would prowl under its glow. It was not unusual for a feline to stroll across the street to check out the two interlopers, then perhaps allowing Angela the occasional stroke of neck fur or chin scratch. These nightly walks offered the duo some unusual sights, the least of which was the activity of a darkened 4WD vehicle continually cruising up and down various back streets. Were they lost, were they scoping out burglary opportunities, or is that impugning a parent teaching their teenager to drive?
Many homes had their living room curtains open so it was easy to see their televisions, replaying the gloomy news over and over again as the fatality statistics grew more and more alarming each night. Often cooking smells hung in the air or the tang of eucalypt competing with the pall of grey smoke left over from backyard firepits, an ill-advised council initiative. Angela was glad her face mask filtered the worst of it. One night they took a different route and Jenny was chastised for impulsively, recklessly walking down the middle of a major suburban road just because she could. Not a delivery van, ambulance or person in sight, only rows and rows of parked cars and houses with twinkling fairy lights strung around trees and across balconies and down driveways. They saw unloved little street libraries, a ghost bus lit up but without passengers, and even a large picture frame hanging high up a jacaranda tree. There was a trend among real estate agents to put either cheery red bows or teddy bears on their For Sale signs. Unfortunately the follow-up maintenance was non-existent so, after rain, ribbons of blood-red dye ran down the advertisements and the poor teddy bears were soaked, left to dangle in macabre poses of decomposition. Indirectly a gloomy statement of that period in history. It always felt nice to return home.
The Ten Penners have created an anthology of magical creatures and mysterious moments. Young humans took me on their humorous and enlightening adventures involving broomstick riding, crystal balls, a backyard concert, a magic mirror, intrepid Pixie P.I. Dandelia Oakleaf, frogs, friendships and more—read on!
The Ten Penners latest anthology Backyard Beasts and Curious Capers contains imaginative reading for that age group of children who love a good giggle at preposterous things. Or are they preposterous?
✨BOOK LAUNCH✨
Book launch at BOOKS ETC, Paradise Centre, Surfers Paradise Saturday 21st October 2023 – 11.00am to 2.00pm “Come and have your book signed by a Witch called Floriece, a Pixie, and Jeremy the Spaceman.”
BLOG TOUR & BOGGLE COLOUR-IN COMPETITION DETAILS BELOW
Perhaps making a rocket is not such a strange idea?
‘Jeremy Albatross’ by Marion Martineer highlights the delight and disaster of making a backyard 🚀 rocket. This story is both funny and a health and safety warning during an action-packed BBQ for Dad’s birthday.
‘The Trees are Alive!’ by Jill Smith (of Poo Boom Cat fame) is a tale about Maggie and Caleb who get ‘a cubby house and a living garden’ during the school holidays when they rejuvenate an old tree 🌳 and receive benefits in return. Part awareness, part ecological, a story of nurturing and working with nature.
‘Wizardo’s Spell’ by Jennifer Scicluna involves Simon digging in the backyard with his father. Or not digging in the backyard with his father “Who wants to plant boring 🌸 begonias?” Simon relents and with a whack of his spade he falls through the earth into Muderoon where he meets irascible Agrim Kateus.
Only a quick glimpse at three Ten Penner author tales but you can discover a brave cat, a sensitive tree, a blue Quoggle and a fright night sleepover. In fact, twenty inventive short stories for young readers. Here’s the list:
Ten Penners, twenty stories! Always imaginative and highly readable, their newest anthology Backyard Beasts and Curious Capers contains fantasy and fun with cool character illustrations, kooky critters and silly stuff which appealed to me. Apologies if I’ve left out your favourite. There’s much more including a wakeboarding octopus and an old fairytale reimagined. Ideal for 8-12 year old readers and group reading. Story length would also suit reading before bedtime, or reading in your favourite tree. Just don’t laugh too hard!
Saturday 21st October—BOOKS ETC. Paradise Centre Surfers Paradise 11 am to 2 pm. Saturday 28th October—Big B Books 10 am to 12 noon outside the shop. Saturday 4th November—The Ten Penners monthly meeting (near Melbourne Cup) Saturday 18th November—Gold Coast Writers book launch/promotion 15 mins confirmed. Saturday 2nd December—Upper Coomera Library 1 hour 10 am to 11 am (then their Christmas Party lunch at the café) Saturday 9th December-—Bookness, Mudgeeraba (to be confirmed) Draw the Quoggle colour-in competition winner! NOTE: The PrizeActivity Packwill include more of their characters to colour-in. A badge. A Word Search. A copy of Backyard Beasts & Curious Capers, signed by the authors, and more. Please send your entry via email tothetenpenners@gmail.com Or hand them to The Ten Penners at their presentation. CONTACT: The Ten Penners look forward to your feedback on their new book so please visit their WIX site, become a member and make a comment: https://thetenpenners.wixsite.com/the-ten-penners/blog
A person reaches an age where they long for an ordinary sandwich. In this case I asked for an avocado and fetta toastie. This delicious tasting yet very difficult to eat deconstructed sandwich on a slice of toasted rye bread contained half an avocado, chunks of fetta, a whole tomato halved, and rocket garnish on top. It was drizzled with a type of balsamic vinaigrette and had a wedge of lemon to add for zest. It was difficult to eat by hand so I attacked it with a knife and fork. Although a delicious flavour, it was quite a battle to get it to do what I wanted, e.g. stay together long enough so that I could eat it!
HERE ARE THE OFFICIAL INGREDIENTS:
THREE GIRLS SKIPPING—Avo on Toast—Lunch Menu “Avocado on seeded sourdough with thyme roasted tomatoes, Persian feta and chimichurri.”
Yes, fetta and feta are different. The correct spelling for fetta depends on the type of cheese being referred to and the country of origin of the cheese in question. There is Cow’s Milk Fetta and Buffalo Milk Feta. You can also get local Camel Milk Persian Feta. Nevertheless, I am not exactly sure the chimichurri lived up to expectations but at least my taste buds were made aware of a new flavour.
Visit info@threegirlsskipping.com.au in Graceville Brisbane if you are feeling hungry 🙂 and their soy latte was delicious.
❤ Gretchen Bernet-Ward
Entirely unrelated but terrifically tasty from Brumby’s Bakery Sherwood Brisbane—
A.Top left to right: Butterfly Cream Cupcake, Iced Fairy Cupcake B.Middle left to right: Cream Bun, Custard Tart, Mini Lemon Meringue Pie, Apple & Custard Tart, Passionfruit Tart. C.Bottom left to right: Iced Fairy Cupcake, immortal Vanilla Slice, Carmel Slice ChocTop, out of shot Cherry Ripe Slice. Buon appetito, sweet treat connoisseurs!
Smiling is infectious, You catch it like the flu. When someone smiled at me today, I started smiling too. I passed around the corner and someone saw my grin. When he smiled I realised I’d passed it on to him. I thought about that smile, then I realised its worth. A single smile, just like mine could travel round the earth. So, if you feel a smile begin, don’t leave it undetected. Let’s start an epidemic quick, and get the world infected!
by Spike Milligan(Possibly) Irish Writer, Poet, Comedian, Actor.
NOTE: Author/illustrator Jez Alborough also attributed to this poem.
I wish to thank English actor, comedian, screenwriter and producer John Cleese for this mind-expanding, succinct and humorous book ‘Creativity’ which has helped me in two ways. First, to celebrate my blog Thoughts Become Words100 Book Reviews milestone and, second, to give me an insight into the creative mind – a mind which we all have, yet use and abuse in many different ways.
Happily, I listened as Mr Cleese read his book to me. It only took an hour.
Also I am going on the assumption that you know John Cleese work because he does refer to it. Do I have to say Monty Python? The new edition is 2020 so he’s in his 80s now.
The standout for me is how our brain keeps working on things whether we are conscious of it or not, thus “sleep on it” theory. But you are the one who has to put it into practice. It works for me!
A truly delightful little book which lives up to its title!
By accident, I listened to the audio version and was so glad I did because one hour just flew by. The inimitable John Cleese, actor, comedian, screenwriter, producer, talked to me about his past, his creativity and how our brain is always working even while we sleep. It is ready to come up with great ideas and answers to questions puzzled over during daylight hours. Hence ‘I’ve got it!’ inspirational moments on waking.
Call it pseudo-science or a clever comedy skit, nuggets of truth gleam through the wise words of Mr Cleese. For example, if you are getting nowhere with your work, put it aside and look at it later, next day, next week. Nothing new but the way he describes and elaborates on the process heightened my awareness in an enjoyable way.
If you listen to this guide on the bus, you may not laugh embarrassingly out loud but you may smile and nod at the sense of it. I can recommend for all ages and talents. GBW.
Thoughts Become Words 