Poems 23: The four seasons

(These limericks are the last of my first-of-the-month poems. There have been 35 poems in all. The weekly music finishes this coming Wednesday the 6th. There will have been 101 music compositions. The daily stories reach the finish line on Thursday 7th with story 1001).

WINTER Take note that the weather each winter Is grey and in need of a tinter If you slip on the ice Which isn’t that nice Your leg’ll get put in a splinter. SPRING Just look at the weather each Spring It’s an utterly pleasurable thing It seems to get lotta Brighter and hotta With blossom buds blooming their bling. SUMMER Observe that the weather each summer Can be a bit of a bummer They forecast a drought But we hardly get out It just gets crumbier and crumber. FALL It seems that the weather each fall Is worse than the autumn before The more the rain wetters The colder it getters I’d rather no weather at all. (Finally, since some definitions of the limerick say it must be bawdy and involve a member of the higher clergy…) Did you hear of the bishop of York Who was heavily into his pork? Bits of the gristle Sliced up his pizzle So now he pokes with a fork.

To hear the poem read aloud click HERE.