Last Reviewed: August 2022

Image showing a writing book and a quill

I follow current affairs and politics, but my main gig is creating computer software.

To give myself a break, I enjoy creative writing such as flash fiction.

To fire my brain up each morning, I usually write a rhyme in response to a daily word prompt and although I have dabbled with forms such as haiku and sonnets, my preferred form is the limerick.

I believe that poetry should be accessible, and, in the case of limericks, humorous.

Some of my recent favourites are:

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.


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.


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.


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 an expert sommellier Chris,
Tried new vintage, he swiftly dismissed,
Said “Some wines are sublime,
They get better with time,
But this one, I’m afraid, tastes like ….”.

Seal of (Dis)approval

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


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!”


and I enjoy writing flash, too. I have several pieces that I particularly like, among them:

The Arranged Marriage

For Fandango’s Story Starter #1, where we build something around the following phrase: Don’t you dare come any closer… She was lucky, she knew. Not many would have her start in life. She must take full advantage, to grow tall and strong. As she waxed, she caught fleeting glances of her neighbour, who shared her youth. Over time, she saw his full range, and his sturdy presence soothed her, his power commanding by her side. She admired his summer peaks,…

The Injured Party

For Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #107, where we write about this photo from Pixabay. She sat dozing in her armchair. She spent most afternoons like this, dozing, since her retirement almost two years ago. A shrill knock at the door aroused her. “Who could that be?” She did not get many visitors, these days. She padded down the hallway and meekly opened the door. “Mrs Evans ?” She didn’t recognise the man standing before her, who was wearing an ill-fitting…