Another week begins… I hope you’re all ready for it. Here’s your new limerick challenge. Your word is:
FRANK
Last week’s prompt was TRAIL. You came up with some very clever limericks:
Nicola Daly:
I once met Sidney the Snail
Famed for his slimy grey trail
‘It isn’t fair,’
He said in despair
‘In my next life I want to be a whale.’
Cousin Richard went off on a trail
In a wedding dress, garter and veil
He wore hiking boots
A wig pink to the roots
‘Til it all blew off in a force nine gale.
To start as one means to go on
Really matters from Leith to Saigon;
Always go with belief
Into challenges brief,
Learning lessons, before life has gone.
Matilda should not mind
But her little Dexter trails behind
Whether walking or math
He’s way back on the path
And Matilda treats him so unkind.
*
The trail behind is pretty clear
But that ahead is foggy, oh dear
The best, by far
Is where we are
Beating past regrets and future fear.
Kate in Cornwall:
At the end of the long audit trail
The accountant could pinpoint the sale
Of the whales and the snails
And the puppy dog tails
To a cordon bleu restaurant in Wales.
There’s a trail that some call a way
and some others that lead one astray.
Some are wide. Some are paved.
Some are sweet. Some depraved.
I’ve tried some, but I’m not dumb today.
Tony:
I followed your perfume as we follow a delicious doubt.
Your look, this fire that drives me to lose myself.
And I want to lose myself — but only in you.
If love is a path, then let me walk on it barefoot,
Without fear of stones, nettles, silences.
Squirreljan:
The lonesome pine was on a trail
He was determined not to fail
To find his tribe
Regain his vibe
There it is! Oh forest, all hail.
A hiker set off on the trail,
With sandwiches packed in a pail.
He slipped on a root,
Lost one of his boot—
Now limps through the woods, rather pale.
There once was a man from Woodwale,
Who had a fondness for lots of pale ale.
He drank every night,
Till the cracking of light.
And for home relied on the Braile trail.
They think I like walking the trail,
Just because I’m wagging my tail
When I’d much rather be
In front of the TV
After ripping up the day’s mail.
Sanny M:
The pilgrims followed the winding trail,
Excited to find the holy grail,
The road had been long but worth the wait,
To see the prize and seal their fate,
And there it was the golden snail.
Following the countryside trail
Feeling tired and ready to wail
10 miles away from town
The next bit climbing down
A cliff face, I think I’ll fail!
They used horses for daily mail
Always on well established trails
One time a new rider’s
Horse wasn’t a strider
And now it’s called monthly mail.
Olaf Sturlasson’s Poetry Corner:
A young copper would follow the trail
Of those robbers deserving of jail
To catch them he’d use
Every trick, ploy and ruse
In the book; knowing he’d never fail.
There once was a hiker named Dale
He set off all alone on a trail
He tripped on a root
Lost one hiking boot
Got pounded when it started to hail.
The End of the Road
Overwhelmed with the feeliest feels
Deep-held sadness depression reveals
Hoped a walk would do good
But I still find I brood
As I trail along, dragging my heels
Thought the fresh air would help clear my head
But it’s messing my thoughts up instead
Feel it’s time to give in
Embrace sorrow within
Hope my heart can find solace in bed…
I worked in an office so massive
The design nothing short of impassive.
Leave a trail of torn bread
To get back from the head.
This is no time to be passive!
Our dogs walked along on the trail
Til one stopped to bite her own tail
Did she have a tick
Or just want to lick
That itch made her just want to wail.
Farewell, farewell little snail
On your journey down the trail
Leave behind your troubling fears
Your friends to wipe their lonely tears
In time you’ll be able to get out of jail.
Since he came out of jail,
His wife had been on his trail.
She phoned and she texed,
He could tell she was vexed.
He vowed not to look at his mail.
My monkey loves running in races
He runs in all different places
But he tripped on his tail
and fell flat on the trail
Making all sorts of ridiculous faces.
***
Esther Chilton 
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