Limericks are a form of poetry, an affinity I inherited from my dad. I can quickly quip, like he did. This makes my heart glad.
‘Tis fitting to speak of this after eating my fill of corned beef and cabbage to celebrate St. Patty’s Day. ‘Tis.
Named after Limerick, a county in Ireland, the greenest of green on this map. The origin of the name of the verse is said to be from the refrain “Will you come up to Limerick?” sung after extemporized verses popular at tavern gatherings. Frat parties featured them back in the day, many verses naughty. “There was a girl from Nantucket…”
Rhyme scheme: AABBA.
An example, if I may, that speaks to the heart of DAD:
There once was a father named Burney
Who was carried away on a journey
To see the world
Honoring a flag unfurled
At least he didn’t return from war on a gurney.
Because, if my father hadn’t returned alive from war, I wouldn’t be on the planet…
Here’s another, one that speaks to the heart of Limericks:
A limerick packs LOLs anatomical
Into space that is quite economical.
But the good ones I’ve seen
Are seldom clean
And clean ones are just as seldom comical.
I hope that you enjoyed the mirth and the worth of my limericks as tributes to my dad.
The island of Ireland, divided now into two countries by religiously political perversity and strife, looks heart-shaped to me.
Another affinity I share with my dad, the Irish-heritaged man: seeing the mirth and the worth in diversity and praise for the hearts of all.