Poetry Samples

Image showing a writing book and a quill

I enjoy creative writing, including flash fiction and short stories (I tend to lump the two together). I also follow current affairs and politics, and write a couple of real-life-based posts per week.

However, the bulk of this site is now poetry. My favoured style is the limerick, although I have been known to write other forms such as haiku. I have included some of my recent favourites, below:

Let me take a moment to write this ditty,
It is certainly fun, and very witty,
I worked quite hard to make it rhyme,
And almost succeeded, as you can see.

Improving



A purveyor of canine cuisine,
My cousin got sucked in machine,
He was chopped up and ground,
Then deliciously browned,
And once cooked, turned the dog food bright green.

Tender Morsels



A missionary in a tight spot,
Ended up in the cannibals’ pot.
Then they ate him up, whole,
Left not even a bone.
Could have used some more pepper, they thought.

Bland



While at college my friend was a dandy,
But caught pox one night when feeling randy,
Abstained calendar year,
Till he got the all clear,
Which was good news indeed for his handie.

Relieved



First car was a banger, I’d say,
Dodgy handbrake would never obey,
I abandoned all hope,
When I parked on a slope,
And then saw the thing rolling away.

First Wheels



When we first moved in here we were needing,
Hired a gardner to help us with weeding,
But it soon became clear
That he had no idea,
When he pulled up the peas we’d been seeding

Black Fingers



Bought plant for math class,
It bloomed and brightened the room,
But it grew square roots.

Miscalculated



As she glided along, shutters clicked,
All those millions of men, she’d afflict,
Moved surrounded by clique,
Proffered air of mystique,
How I laughed my ass off when she tripped.

The Red Carpet


As their sex life was falling to pieces,
Thought of role-play to make some increases,
But his codpiece conspicuous,
Made him look quite ridiculous,
And his missus just fell into creases.

The Taming of the Shrew


On his death bed, the man, almost spent,
Had his son by his side to augment,
Cried out, nearing his death,
With his very last breath,
“You’re an arse! You’re not getting a cent!”

Codicil