I hope you had a sunshine-filled weekend. Here’s a new limerick challenge for you. Your word this week is:
LEAVE
Last week’s prompt was GRIM. You came up with some entertaining limericks:
Bob had a grim day at work
Due to a coworker’s weird quirk
When things went down
She did the opposite of frown
So sat all day with a big smirk.
*
Don’t think I’m super dim
But the world’s outlook seems grim
The markets’ spinning
Hate is winning
Civilization is hanging on a limb.
*
That lats was a pretty grim verse
But I guess it could have been worse
With all the bile
I should shoot for a smile
Instead of slinging such a curse.
Murray Clarke:
There once was a doctor called Jim
Whose prognosis was particularly grim
He drank too much whisky
Which made him quite frisky
And that was the end of him.
Tony:
Grim,
A word that doesn’t scream,
but wraps itself around your ribs
like a shadow you can’t shake off.
It’s not an enemy,
but a silent companion,
lurking in the corners of the mind,
watching you without blinking.
It’s the cold whisper of the inevitable.
The distant hum of time
that we all try to ignore,
yet it’s the only thing that truly understands us.
Grim doesn’t need light to be known.
It is already known.
It is the truth of endings,
the honesty of silence,
the quiet roar of things that can’t be undone.
But even in its darkness,
there’s a strange power.
Grim teaches you what you can’t learn
in the bright places.
It shows you strength in surrender,
peace in acceptance,
and courage in standing still.
En Français et pour toi,
(Quand le poids parle)…
Grim,
Un mot qui ne crie pas,
mais s’enroule autour de tes côtes
Comme une ombre dont on ne peut se débarrasser.
Ce n’est pas un ennemi,
mais un compagnon silencieux,
se cachant dans les coins de l’esprit,
Te regarder sans cligner des yeux.
C’est le froid murmure de l’inévitable.
Le lointain bourdonnement du temps
que nous essayons tous d’ignorer,
Pourtant, c’est la seule chose qui nous comprend vraiment.
Grim n’a pas besoin de lumière pour être connu.
C’est déjà connu.
C’est la vérité des fins,
l’honnêteté du silence,
le rugissement tranquille des choses qui ne peuvent être défaites.
Mais même dans ses ténèbres,
Il y a un pouvoir étrange.
Grim vous enseigne ce que vous ne pouvez pas apprendre
dans les endroits lumineux.
Il vous montre la force dans l’abandon,
la paix dans l’acceptation,
et le courage de rester immobile.
Nicola Daly:
There once was a feller called Lance
Thought he might be in with a chance.
Peaking under her hat brim
He was faced with a sight so grim
Which sent him onto the next ferry to France.
There once was a lady quite prim,
Who had a son she named Tim.
The two would walk,
Side by side and talk.
About every subject except grim.
There once was a doctor so grim
He decided to open a gym
His patients enrolled
And got fit and bold
His mood improved with a grin.
There is an orange cheeto flam-flim
Destroying the world on a whim
The tariff’s are jumping
The stocks they be dumping
He snatches them up with grim grin.
How I grouse and I grumble! It’s grim.
As the cat’s getting fatter, I’m slim.
When I’m small, I’d be tall.
Should I rise, then I’d fall.
When it’s bright, the light’s suddenly dim.
The prospect was really quite grim
She turned the lights down quite dim
Now you can’t see the dust
Though the housecleaning must
Be done at some point, she told him.
There once was a fellow quite grim
The success of his tariffs was slim
He’d mutter and moan
While standing alone
So he went to play golf on a whim.
My old maths teacher was prim,
Her nails always needing a trim,
As they screeched with the chalk
All the students would balk
As their faces all turned grim!
Olaf Sturlasson’s Poetry Corner:
There was an old man who was grim
‘Til the day that he died
When everyone cried
For he left them all rich on a whim.
There once was a fellow named Tim,
Whose outlook was rather quite grim.
He frowned every day,
And chased joy away,
Until he found laughter on a whim!
My cousin, whose name is Jim,
Has a sister whose name is Kim.
They fought and they scrapped.
Their parents felt trapped.
The situation was horribly grim.
Barbie grazed in the very green grass
When Ken doll just happened to pass
With pizza bought on a whim
His chances were grim
Cos Barbie was a gluten-free lass
Now Ken was as dumb as stump
And Babs had no time for a chump
She jumped in her car
And said ‘Au revoir!’
I’m leaving! This place is a dump!’
At sea fishing, my bud Lucky Norm,
Just offshore, had got caught in a storm,
Waves got bigger and deeper,
Then Norm met the Grim Reaper,
He screamed one final wail, then was gone.
Our future’s looking grim sad to say
There’s so many factors at play
With threats of nuclear war
Could we be heading for
The unthinkable dreaded Doomsday?
Miss Millibee’s garb wasn’t prim
Her hair needed more than a trim
She burped when she talked
And weaved as she walked
Her chance of a job rather grim.
mr west
slew general grim
and trim and fit
do not mind a bit
the box
and lox and chains
and fetters
and avoiding one’s betters!
And an enteraining limerick not on the prompt:
Rall:
brigid doesn’t stand much of a chance
wearing those big nana pants
she’s looking for mr right
doesn’t matter if he’s not very bright
may have to find him in france.
***
Esther Chilton 
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