A young man loved ping pong He also liked Mah Jong But what was lewd And oh so crude He’d only wear a thong. Call of Saul There was an old man called Saul Who had a shrill sort of call What’s he saying? Now he’s praying Oh, I think he’s trapped a ball #writer #humor #limericks #poetry #humour #authors #humorous #iamwriting

I want to go live on the moon It really should happen quite soon My life is a mess With plenty of stress I need to get going by noon Dig Deep I think I’ll go live in a hole Dig down deep and act like a mole I’ll keep myself neat Pedicure my feet But my bum’ll be black as coal #writing #humor #aspirational #limericks #poetry #humour #authors #humorous #critique #iamwriting

I hadn’t planned to pull his head off. I bent and searched for body parts under the desk. “You’re an Action Man, for plastics sake,” I told him. “You’re supposed to hold it together.” I was still on my knees when Mr Krypton returned to his office. “Much as I approve of the attitude. What are you doing down there, Miss Light?” “It’s Bright, sir. One of your soldier dolls fell off the shelf.” “Not dolls. They’re valuable collectibles.” Yeah, right. Whatever. Krypton had a whole

Hats off to those who blog about writing and make it both interesting and relevant. What a challenge that is.  If I ever finish my novel, there may be something to contribute, but until then, It’s just going to be the odd limerick or two. Continuing the theme of confection, here we go… A greedy boy loved bubblegum Until it got stuck in his tum He fell to his knees Gave one mighty squeeze And it shot right out of his bum Miss Whippy A young lady loved walnut whips But they onl

I’ve moved on from sheep and cows to the hazards of sweets. There was a girl who Stole sweets And hid them inside her sheets One morning she woke And this is no joke Her hair was stuck to her feets Blow Up Rhoda There was a young girl named Rhoda Who loved American Soda She emitted a cough Got lost in the froth That soda it did implode her Pips On Her Hips A young lady ate sherbet pips With no thought at all to her hips A mouth of decay Was soon on its way And now she’s the s

Occasionally you hear an author say, “the book wrote itself.” Really? That’s as incredible as saying, “I knitted my own false teeth.” This writing business is hard and slippery. I started with enthusiasm and misplaced confidence. My first hurdle was tenses which slapped me round the face and said, “You really have no idea what to do with us.” Then I got all caught up with POV. I’ve settled for first person as I find it easier. Experts in my writers group say it is frown