Happy new week. Here’s a fresh limerick challenge for you. Your word this week is:
BEEP
Last week’s prompt was KNAVE. You came up with some fabulous limericks:
If wickedness is what you crave
You’d love Bob the Knave!
He can sin
With a grin
And will never, ever behave!
Know me now by the way I behave,
Never yielding the things that I crave.
A knave in the pack
Vicious under attack,
Every rule, I’ll be certain to waive.
Tony:
He had no coat of arms or oath.
Only hands stained with ink and rust,
and a tongue as thin as the blade he carried in his boot.
He was called a knave — traitor to some, witness to others.
But in the alleys, between two sighs of bells,
It was said that he could read the soul of a king as one reads an old
forgotten poem.
He only bent to see better.
It was used to learn better.
And he laughed, softly,
when the lords lost their latin before the mirror of his silences.
It was this breath between two truths.
This poison in the cup of power.
This brother of the shadow that history erases…
…but the memory of the people never forgets.
Nicola Daly:
That dude there is called Dodgy Dave
He’s known as a bit of a knave
His lies are so slick
Knows every card trick
And you should see him groove at the rave!
If a knight you desire, crave
Joe’s the man you want, but a knave
Dressed up to your delight
Sneaks around in the night
Meeting him, you’ll need to be brave.
There once was a fellow named Dave,
Who decided to prove he was brave.
He grabbed a big sword,
And began to work toward.
An empty suit of armor labelled ‘knave.’
I decided my money to save
So I put it in a bank called Dave
I lost all my money
Which was not funny
Because it was run by a Knave!
There once was a knave in a cave,
in a cave since it rhymes well with knave.
The word ‘knave’ I must use,
not the word I would choose,
but like Dave in the cave I’ll be brave.
There once was a scoundrel named Rave
An unscrupulous rascal and knave
He would lie and he’d cheat
He made Madoff look sweet
As he sailed off on the wind and a wave.
A knave is a tricky deceitful fellow
His orders he shouts out with a bellow
He’ll smile as he lies
With deceit in eyes
But his spine is as rigid as jello.
He was a cheeky young knave
Who thought he was very brave,
He fought thick and thin
For the girl’s hand to win
Then discovered her name was Dave.
Olaf Sturlasson’s Poetry Corner:
There once was a scurrilous knave
Who claimed to be ever so brave
When it came time to fight
He always took flight
And ran away; his own life to save.
The maidens tittered and waved
Cooed at the debonaire knave
Unabashed flirts
They lifted their skirts
All modesty gone to the grave.
There was a Tom called Knave
For dinner he had a big crave
So he sat and he sat
Finally catching a bat
Since there was nary a rat in the cave.
–
So Knave felt proud and brave
For catching a bat in a cave
But as he munched down
He had a big frown
The taste was just not his fave.
I descend from a long line of knaves,
The most famous was Frederick the Brave,
Told to kill a wild dragon,
He got straight on his wagon,
And his last word, I think, was “Behave”!
A cheeky young knave from the bay,
Stole cookies, then ran far away.
He tripped on a log,
Got chased by a dog,
And cried “Zoinks! This just isn’t my day!”
As I sat playing poker with Dave,
His face became extremely grave,
He started to huff
As I completed my bluff.
Two fives an ace and a knave.
***
Esther Chilton 
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