My beau plays the cello. His bow
Makes the loveliest music I know.
I love him, I think,
But my mother, a shrink,
Says I won’t, once I’ve heard Lorne Munroe.
Happy “International Cello Day!” (December 29)
My beau plays the cello. His bow
Makes the loveliest music I know.
I love him, I think,
But my mother, a shrink,
Says I won’t, once I’ve heard Lorne Munroe.
Happy “International Cello Day!” (December 29)
It’s Limerick-Off time, once again. And that means I write a limerick, and you write your own, using the same first line. Then you post your limerick here and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.
The best submission will be crowned Limerick Of The Week. (Here’s last week’s Limerick Of The Week Winner.)
How will your poems be judged? By meter, rhyme, cleverness, and humor. (If you’re feeling a bit fuzzy about limerick writing rules, here’s my How To Write A Limerick article.)
I’ll announce the Limerick of the Week Winner next Sunday, right before I post next week’s Limerick-Off. So that gives you a full week to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
I hope you’ll join me in writing a limerick with this first line:
A woman who tended to fret…*
or
A fellow was told not to fret…*
or
A guitarist had broken a fret…*
or
A repairman was fixing a fret…*
*(Please note that minor variations to my first lines are acceptable. However, rhyme words may not be altered, except by using homonyms or homophones.)
Here’s my limerick:
Fretting About Limericks
By Madeleine Begun Kane
A cellist would frequently fret
Over women the minute they met.
Could he strike the right chord?
But the gals all got bored;
He was one-note — not much of a get.
Please feel free to write your own limerick using the same first line and post it in my comments. And if you’re on Facebook, I hope you’ll join my friends in that same activity on my Facebook Limerick-Off post.
To receive an email alert whenever I post a new Limerick-Off, please email Madkane@MadKane.com Subject: MadKane’s Newsletter. Thanks!
In its latest Thursday Think Tank, Poets United prompts our muses with the word “strings.” It struck a chord with me, inspiring this limerick tale of an unstrung cellist:
Last-String Limerick
By Madeleine Begun Kane
“That conductor has strung me along,”
Said a cellist. “He’s doing me wrong.
He promised first chair,
But instead I’m nowhere:
Stuck in back, the last stand, near the gong.”
(Related Limericks: Musical Chairs; Musical Faux Pas; and Musical Discord.)
I hope you’ll join me in writing a limerick with this first line:
A symphony cellist named Kate…
Here’s the limerick I wrote with that line. (It’s a two-verser, but a standard one-verse limerick is fine, of course.)
Musical Chairs
By Madeleine Begun Kane
A symphony cellist named Kate
Shares her stand with a man, once her mate.
Though they play well in sync,
She thinks him a fink
And longs for his move out of state.
But orchestra jobs are quite rare,
And he can’t find a gig on a dare.
Sadly, neither can she,
So together they’ll be
Making music. At least she’s first chair.
Please feel free to write your own limerick using the same first line and post it in my comments. And if you’re on Facebook, I hope you’ll join my friends in that same activity in my Limerick-Offs.