Today's what we call "Limerick Day;"
A chance to take words out to play.
So we here at the Spark
Thought it might be a lark
To write today’s piece in this way.
It may seem quite simple to do --
To write all these lines in a new
Format like this
(One we hope that won’t miss),
But, frankly, it makes us say "phew!"
I mean, it could drive us berserk
(This making these couplets all work);
The lines have to rhyme
And still sound sublime --
It’s easy to sound like a jerk.
Of course, no one made us do this.
There were birthdays that we had to miss.
Like Mary Kay Ash,
Who made lots of cash
By selling pink products like this.
Or we could have marked Nurse's Day,
friend,
By making you all comprehend
The work that they do
May seem pointless to you,
But you’ll soon get that point in the end.
But I see we digress from our Spark,
And we're leaving you still in the dark.
This form has a history,
It's really no mystery;
Its origin's nothing but stark.
A man with the name Edward Lear
Gave birth to these poems he held dear.
In 1845
(And that is no jive)
The Limerick made its premiere!
It's named for a city in Eire,
And Lear's book created a fire
We honor today
In this rhythmical way
(Of which we’re beginning to tire).
So that'll be all we will write.
We've made our point, now -- sweet respite
From rhyming and poems,
We’re off to our homes
And wish you a non-metric night!
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