Here’s to a great new week! Your new limerick challenge is as follows:
FATE
Your challenge last week was to write a limerick using the word SORT in it somewhere. Here are your masterpieces:
She claimed she would take me to court
If her project I purposed to thwart
I said if she knew me
She never would sue me
Accepting I’m just not her sort.
–
Accused once of being loquacious,
A claim I considered audacious,
I gave the retort
That you’re of the sort
Who frequently are most ungracious.
Sort yourself out she said
To the man she was going to wed
Unless you improve
And your faults remove
You can forget our romance instead.
Chaz is a marine of true sort,
With a girl in every port,
His harem he loved,
But they pushed and shoved –
So often his plans they would thwart!
“I sort of,” I said without skill
“Don’t want to partake in the Limerick drill,”
It is a pain
Fuses the brain
And some neurons it may kill!
Becky was a wandering sort
Her trips she wouldn’t abort
The adventures she had
Made her life so glad
No longer imagined in a fort!
If you aspire to be ‘the right sort’
There are lessons that cannot be taught:
Use the correct diction
Lie with conviction
And, above all, never get caught…
I’ve decided to sort out my life
And find myself a lovely new wife
Cos one two and three
Were no good for me
They were far too much trouble and strife.
Bony Tony was a professor of data.
In Spain, he’d sort them and get paid in pesetas.
Once he’d collected his fees,
He’d ask for some cheese
To melt over his hot baked potatoes.
Jocelyn Barker:
This man is the sort I abhor
A man with a terrible flaw
While thousands are dying
He’s lying and lying
And lying and lying some more.
–
This man is the sort I adore
A man with a heart and what’s more
He’s terribly funny
Not tight with his money
I’m hoping he’ll move in next door.
***
Esther Chilton 
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