Laughing Along With A Limerick

In my recent blog post, I mentioned that I’d be back with my challenges soon. In the meantime, Lance Greenfield is holding my Monday and Thursday challenges if you’d like to take part. You’ll find him at

I also promised I’d publish all your wonderful limericks from several months ago. Well, here they are.

The prompts were:




Keith Channing:

The dogs needed walking again

So I had to go out in the rain.

It would be okay

On a sunnier day

But this is a regular pain!

My shoemaker told me that he’ll

Give comfort from toe right to heel.

But each homophone

Grates right to the bone;

Those old blisters may never heal.

Nurses and doctors won’t stay

Unless they receive decent pay.

Rewards may accrue,

Some thank-you is due –

Even a fine cabernet.

No self-respecting young nurse

Uses a camel-skin purse.

Regarding the rest,

Sow’s ear is best

Even if slightly perverse.


“Ooh, Matron,” the patient said again

“Say that once more, and I’ll inflict pain!”

“But, Nurse, you’re meant to heal”

“Not when you cop a feel.

Patients like you, quite the bane!”

Cathy Wattam:

With your shoulder, you must be in pain

Needing invasive surgery again,

I do hope you heal fast

So your pain doesn’t last

And you don’t get a nurse who’s insane!

Kim Smyth:

There once was a lady in pain

Which was made worse by the rain

The doctor did say

She needed rest for a day

So the surgery wasn’t in vain!

Christine Mallaband-Brown:

I really feel your pain

I know it must be a strain

To live with a shoulder

That makes you feel older

So your health is restored again.

After surgery it takes time to heal

It can be a very big deal

Muscles are knitting

And a sling it needs fitting

For a few weeks at least – not ideal!

You need a very good nurse

So you recover, not get worse.

So rest up your shoulder

And then you’ll get bolder

And resume your writing of verse.

I hope the nurse treats you well

And any pain they can quell

You recover full strength

At no long length

your hospital stay a short spell!

Trent’s World:

Esther has a date with doctor and nurse

Hopefully to heal the shoulder pain curse

I have naught to say

Being an ocean away

I have to send my well wishes in verse.

A limerick with depth is a pain

Trying to cram it all in is insane

But I’ll try my best

While you heal and rest

And maybe your smile I’ll gain.

Paul Mastaglio:

Thought you’d done away with pain

But I guess it’s back again

Try opening another folder

Might have a new shoulder

Then you’ll be right as rain!

The shoulder will heal

I’m certain, I feel

You’re on the right track

In no time, you’ll be back

If not, you can always appeal!

You couldn’t do any worse

Than employ a nurse

Someone to care

Who could be right there

And that’s the end of my verse!

The Hidden Edge:

Help! I’m in need of a nurse,

This pain is getting much worse,

If it doesn’t heal,

I might just repeal,

Instead, call straight for the hearse!

Linking People2013:

No pain, no gain, they say,

Be disciplined and obey,

God will heal,

Just go through the ordeal,

Nurse will also pray!

Lance Greenfield:

For Esther

Her surgeon’s name was Socrates,

Who studied under Hypocrates.

Her nurse was Jane,

Who soothed her pain.

With friends like these, she’ll heal with ease . ..

. . . and, if my dream comes true, we’ll all be pleased!

Her surgeon’s name was Harry.

In theatre he did not tarry.

In full command,

His healing hands,

Soon had Esther as happy as Larry.

For my Dad

Happy Birthday Bony Tony,

Always straight and never phoney.

Two years departed,

Still never outsmarted.

Let’s party with pizza calzone.

Ruth Scribbles:

I once had a PAIN in my heel

The NURSE said there’s nothing to feel

I limped and I groaned

I groused and I moaned

The pain in my heel better HEAL???

Sarian Lady:

To look at my face is a pain.

The mirror should go down the drain.

A wrinkle, a blemish,

And I’m off to the chemist.

I wish I wasn’t so vain.

Can anyone, I appeal?

My broken heart to heal.

On dating apps,

I’ll find perhaps

Someone to make my head reel.

How I love a kind nurse.

I’ll explain it all in this verse.

Bed baths and pills,

To cure all my ills.

Rather than go off in a hearse.

Val Fish:

Pushing and panting for all I was worth

The pain was like nothing on earth

But I’d do it over again

Despite all that pain

That’s the miracle of childbirth.

I’ve a pain that won’t go away

It’s with me every hour of the day

But I made my bed

When I stupidly said

I would love honour and obey.


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Thank You

This is a message to say thank you to everyone who has been asking after me. I’m doing well after my shoulder operation and I’m getting there slowly.

I do hope to be back blogging soon, but in the meantime, Lance Greenfield is holding my Monday and Thursday challenges if you’d like to take part. You’ll find him at

Enjoy the summer and I’ll see you soon!

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Can You Tell A Story In…

It’s Thursday and your new five-word challenge is here. As I’m going to be out of action after my surgery, here are three prompts to keep you going. I’ll publish all your stories when I’m recovered and back blogging.





Here are your STAMP stories from last week:

Kim Smyth:

Dad loaned me a stamp.

My card needed a stamp.

Stamp received. Card sent off!


He stamped on my heart.

Stamps are bloody expensive nowadays!

Hand stamped. Nightclub entrance guaranteed!

Christine Mallaband-Brown:

Stamp out motorbike theft now!

Your stamp of approval please?

Stamp your feet, it’s cold.

best treasure? Penny Black stamp!

She stamped on his toe!

A postage stamp sized garden.

Keith Channing:

Stick To All Mail, Please.

Lance Greenfield:

Stamp thefts – Police arrest male.

Butterfly stamps and palace disappears.

The camp tramp stamped daintily.

Screaming Violet Elizabeth Bott stamped.

Rubber stamps can be fun.

Travelling stamp stuck in corner.

Every stamp tells a story.

Stamp out spread of viruses.

Stories need stamp of approval.

Food stamps are history now.

My passport: my stamp collection.

EDC Writing:

Stamps, licked, steamed off, displayed.

Paul Mastaglio:

Post late. Second class stamp!

Ruth Scribbles:

I’ll stamp my feet forever!!

Linking People 2003:

Sir Rowland Hill invented stamp.

Knighted for inventing postage stamp.

First adhesive postage stamp, 1837.

Queen Victoria’s head on stamp.

Penny Black Stamp for penny.

Don’t stamp feet instead breath.

Passport needs valid visa stamp.

Stamp on visa invalidates it.

Inky franking mark invalidates stamp.

Invalidated stamp cannot be reused.

Stamp with signature needed officially.

Articles have company logo stamp.

Fructochlorophyll will have SunShineSwasth stamp.

Medals were stamped with dies.

Cricketing ability stamps him valuable.

Leaders stamp authority on team.

Project has stamp of authority.

Soldiers’ stamp of boots seen!

Government did stamp out corruption!

And here are some stories from Tessa on the prompt FRUIT from the previous week:

I don’t consume enough fruit.

I love fresh fruit salad.

My favorite fruit is bananas.


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Laughing Along With A Limerick

It’s Monday and limerick time. I’m giving you three prompts this week. Unfortunately, I’ve got to have some more shoulder surgery, so I’ll be out of action for a while. But I’d love to see your limericks so please send them in to give me a smile. I’ll publish them all when I’m back blogging again.




Here are a few limericks to make you smile this Monday. The prompt last week was TRAIN.

Keith Channing:

Train for the race, I was told;

Running, you’ll never grow old.

And so I agreed;

I did my best speed.

Now I’m just knackered and cold!


Now, that really is a pain

Can’t believe I did it again

Just a tad too much booze

So I had a snooze

And I’ve gone and missed my train!

Cathy Wattam:

As an actor, I do like to train

Caped crusaders are often my game

I auditioned as Robin

But ended up sobbin’

Because I was cast as Bruce Wayne.

There once was a man in the rain

Who had waited so long for a train

That his clothes were all soaked

And a passenger joked

That he looked like he lived down a drain.

It is a real bugbear of mine

That I can’t find a train that’s on time

So I stand here and wait

Know full well I’ll be late

It’s always those leaves on the line.

There’s one thing I’d like to explain,

I get kind of frisky on trains

I’m a great womanizer

Yes, I am the train driver

But I’ve yet to find someone complain!

When you are riding a train

It’s best not to take your Cocaine

The train might be busy

And you’re feeling dizzy

The question is – are you insane?

Kim Smyth:

More people should ride the train

It would keep them out of the rain

The roads less clogged

Their minds less fogged

Once working they’d use more of their brain!

Christine Mallaband-Brown:

An 0-6-0 train in steam

Makes my hubby smile and beam

The Flying Scotsman?

He is a real Fan!

Driving it, that is his dream!

Trent’s World:

Beth married the conductor of a train

So her wedding dress had a forty-foot train

It wasn’t much fun

The thing weighed a ton

To wear it she had to exercise and train.

Bob trained real hard in vault

But the virus put the games to a halt

Go home and pout

For Tokyo is out

Not getting the gold isn’t your fault.

Paul Mastaglio:

Let the train

Take the strain

No more car

For those trips afar

Enjoy your day and return home again.

The Hidden Edge:

The amazing red head, Mary Jane,

Knew not that Spiderman stopped the train,

Her trust was slighted;

Their love was blighted,

Swallowing pride is not what she’d deign!

Lance Greenfield:

My owner thinks I’m just really dumb.

But truly, I’m having great fun.

On “Stay!” I run,

And I leave on “Come!”

Training treats are filling my tum!

We boarded a train going to Delhi.

The driver was giving it welly.

We’d not been going long

Before we were singing this song:

We’re going too fast! Our legs are shaking like jelly!

We all went out for a dinner in Staines.

I chose chicken Madras for my main.

The weather was foggy.

And my rice was all soggy,

So I sent the dish back to re-strain.

Linking People2013:

Education is to train the mind to think,

Station master minds the train without a blink!

School master trains the mind,

Former minds, the latter trains and is kind!

Freight train or camel train, train the camera to click!

Ruth Scribbles:

I wish I were riding a train

Instead I got caught in the rain

I ran really fast

Went down in a splat

The concussion they say hurt my brain.

Sarian Lady:

I once had to rack my brain,

Whilst travelling home on the train.

I thought and I thought,

‘Till my nerves became fraught.

No ideas, it was all in vain.

Val Fish:

I got caught with a fine on the train

Whilst drunk, pulled the emergency chain

There’s no excuse

For improper use

Note to self; next time engage brain!


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A Poem For Friday

Many of you know Lance Greenfield and I’m delighted to welcome him to my ‘A Poem for Friday’ slot. Before you read his sensual poem, here’s a little bit about him:

Lance is the author of two self-published novels in the ‘inspirational fiction’ genre. He got into writing by submitting reviews as part of the BBC RAW (Read and Write) campaign a few years ago. There was huge enthusiasm for his reviews, so he resolved to post reviews for every book that he reads on his personal blog, Write to Inspire. He now just loves to write anything from flash fiction to poetry to short stories.

Although he has been writing poetry all of his life, he never shared any of his poems from the time that his English teacher told him that his poetry was rubbish when he was only eight years old until he was encouraged by a tutor at the Swanwick Writers’ Summer School in 2016 to read one of his poems. Since then, his natural flow of verse from his pen has been unstoppable.

Wearing Silk


Lance Greenfield

Before I open my eyes,

I see you.

I feel you.

I slip out of bed,

Naked, yet enveloped by you.

I slip on my running shorts,

My shirt, my socks.

But I am already wearing you,

Like a silk cloak.

You envelope me.

You wrap yourself around me.

I am inside you.

As I stretch and start to run,

I feel you,

Soft against my skin,

Strong, soft silk.

My cadence becomes your rhythm.

As I push myself up the first hill,

I wrap myself around you,

Like a silk cloak.

I envelope you.

I wrap myself around you.

You are inside me.

You feel me,

Soft against your skin,

Strong, soft silk.

We are sheets of strong, soft silk,



A strong wind tries to rip us apart,

But we merge: a silk banner,

Blowing in the gale,

Defying the storm.

We are so closely bound that

Not even the fiercest maelstrom could rip us apart.

Our every ripple, every wave,

Is as one.

We are together,


I wear you like silk.

You wear me like silk.

I am inside you,

And you in me.

We are bonded: a strong silk sash,



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Can You Tell A Story In…

It’s Thursday and your new five-word challenge is here. This week, your prompt is STAMP. So can you tell a story in five words, using the word STAMP in it somewhere?

Here are your FRUIT stories from last week:

Kim Smyth:

Mis favorito fruta es manzanas! (my favorite fruit is apples!)


I should really eat fruit.

Fruity thoughts? Go, eat some!

Fruits of my labour, perfect.

Christine Mallaband-Brown:

Hello! My dear old fruit,

Fruit in trifle? Really yummy!

The tree of life fruit.

My apple bears good fruit.

Fruit and Vegetables. Good fibre.

Sugar and fruit, make wine!

Fruit colours, bright paint ideas!

Keith Channing:

Fruit Remains Until It Turns.

Fruit Rots Unless In Turmeric.

Fruity Recipes Use Intact Tomatoes.

Lance Greenfield:

Murder weapon was fruit knife.

Suffer the fruit of lies.

She’s beautiful yet tainted fruit.

Killer bees attack fruit farmer.

Sharing fruit gives great pleasure.

Eating juicy fruit in bath.

Let’s crush this ripened peach.

Is passion fruit an aphrodisiac?

Eating forbidden fruit is sinful.

Fruit has thousands of uses.

Low-hanging fruit is harvested first.

Hard work yields lush fruits.

Fruit machines are one-armed bandits.

Double cream partners fruit salad.

Sarian Lady:

Picking fruit is very relaxing.

EDC Writing:

Fruit cake? Matter of opinion.

Paul Mastaglio:

Red wine comes from fruit.

White wine comes from fruit.

Love fruit. I really do!

Ruth Scribbles:

I hate most fruit cake.

Joy Smith:

Fruit salad does dental damage.

Tomato. Fruit of vegetable salad?

Kiwi fruit, lost Aussie wanders.

Creamed fruit becomes a fool.

A fruit trifle needs sherry.

Summer fruit pudding tantalizes tastebuds.

Fruity headcovering that Carmen wore.

Apples and pears, fruit steps.

Fruit juice makes cereal breakfast.

Fruit knife in the conservatory.

Fruit salad and carnation milk.

Fruit of my loins, child.

Fruit cake or sponge wars.

Low hanging fruit, Reaper’s pickings.

Eve’s fruit was Adam’s downfall.

Fruit bat shuns laxative medication.

Linking People 2003:

Simon coined fructochlorophyll contains fruit.

Fruit contains fructose unlike sugar.

Sugar has sucrose unlike fruit.

Fructose from fruit better sweetener.

Fruit plus Chlorophyll make fructochlorophyll.

Sweet fruit better than sugar.

Dieting does not yield fruit.

Eating fruit is better dieting.

JJ Smith:

Livingstone Doctor ? – No, Bat Fruit.


Not every fruit we eat.

Tastes fruity and so sweet.

Lacking fruitage in the sun.

Bitter, like a sour grapefruit.


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Fairies Part Three

For part one, click here

For part two, click here

The knife came from nowhere. Eleanor hadn’t seen it before. All she saw was a shimmer of silver and then there was a sea of scarlet. Her mummy didn’t even get a chance to scream. Mrs Draper did. She screamed before she ran down the stairs and out of the house. She didn’t even stop to pick up her clothes.

Eleanor is still now. She is holding out her arms, beckoning the fairies to her. But not scarlet ones. There won’t be any scarlet fairies. Eleanor doesn’t like scarlet.

I wish I could see them. I wish I could be there with Eleanor and feel the flutter of their wings. I wish they would invite me into their magical world and spare me my suffering. Eleanor is fading now. I can’t see her. Come back, Eleanor, come back.

I look around the room. It is so bright, so stark, so empty. The people will be here soon. They think they are helping. I don’t want their help. I don’t want to remember the bad time. I want the fairies to come again. I used to see them. All colours of the rainbow and more besides. Except scarlet. I don’t like scarlet. But they were my friends. For years and years. My only friends, apart from teddy.

The door opens. They’re here.

“Come on, Eleanor, time for your medication.”

I reach for my teddy. Perhaps one day the fairies will come back.         

The End


Thoughtful Thursday~August 1 Best Quotes Life | BestQuotes
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Funny Of The Week


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Laughing Along With A Limerick

Here’s your Monday smile – it’s limerick time. Send in your own or here’s a prompt for you –


Here are a few limericks to make you smile this Monday. The prompt last week was SPORT.

Keith Channing:

Sport can be fun, but I’m lazy.

Perhaps I’m a little bit hazy,

Only I see no joy

Running like a schoolboy.

Too much and I’m sure I’d go crazy!


I’d rather read, and sit on my bum

But that’s not so good for my tum

Find a child who likes sport

And soon you’ll get caught

Like me, now a true cricket mum!

Cathy Wattam:

My funny old pal was a sport

Liked to chase me with things he had bought

Feather dusters were fine

But I did draw the line

At the snake he was due to import.

I can’t find a sport I can do

Up to now I have tried twenty-two

But they all make me hot

I can’t master the squat

And am fearful I might follow through.

The day I had just become forty

I decided I should be more sporty

But on the basketball court

I heard someone retort

‘She can’t reach, because she’s such a shorty!’

In sport you must play by the rules

We were told at our Primary Schools

But when I got a bad itch

On the new football pitch

I had to start playing in mules.

Kim Smyth:

My youngest son was so good at sports

He could play all different sorts

My other two not so much

They liked gaming and such

And none of the three liked short shorts!

Christine Mallaband-Brown:

A choice between physics and sport?

Which did I prefer to be taught?

Neither, was I good at

My efforts always fell flat!

But Art was always A on my report!

Trent’s World:

Robbie was selling me short

So I decided to take him to court

He returned my loot

So I dropped the suit

I can be a pretty good sport.

Bob’s vest sports a flower

Crocheted with much power

All gaudy and bright

It even glows at night

You’d think his bank job would sour.

Paul Mastaglio:

After a lot of thought

We can now do sport

Golf, Tennis or a bit of cricket

There’s the ticket

That’s the end of my report.

The Hidden Edge:

The tennis champ, Lindsay Davenport,

Whether she was on or off the court,

Would take it on the chin,

If she didn’t quite win,

And was always a jolly good sport!

Lance Greenfield:

He was every girl’s hottest desire.

Set my heart and my belly on fire.

A runner was he,

With legs like great trees.

But the spoilsport would not be my squire.

Linking People2013:

Soccer needs much physical exertions,

Unlike chess, players shout to cast aspersions!

Referee’s appeal to be a sport,

But, cricket players take dort!

Match fixing, hidden corruptions!

Sarian Lady:

I was never any good at sport,

In running I always got caught.

Still, I practised and practised,

‘Till I had legs of elastic.

And now I never fall short.

Val Fish:

I was always useless at sport

I’m just not the athletic sort

I’d come last every race

I couldn’t keep pace

And at long jump I always fell short.


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A Poem For Friday

This week, my guest poet is David Marsden, one of my former Writers Bureau students. Here’s a little bit about David, in his own words:

I started off writing short stories, then I became interested in poetry and non-fiction, so I write a mixture of subjects.

Poetry writing is a favourite of mine because it comes more natural and takes up less time. I also like writing short non-fiction about mysteries. I enjoy digging into the past and researching unusual things.

I entitle this poem The Mirror. An old film about a haunted mirror inspired me. It doesn’t reflect on the story but gave me the idea.

The Mirror


David Marsden

The mirror on the wall is old and brown

he bought it from the antiques shop down town

he didn’t know the power it possessed

it’s just a gift for his loving wife, Bess.

It’s rather large, she thought, where shall it go

the lounge, he thought, study, she told him so

over the mantle-piece where the flames dance,

to give the room an air of ambiance.

He looked into the glass one stormy night

a figure stood behind, oh what a fright

its face distorted as if in torment

its eyes as black as night, its clothes all rent.

It laid its deathly hand upon his neck

a grip of iron, one mighty squeeze did break

he fell upon the floor in a dead heap

he’s trapped in the mirror, its soul set free.

She could not find her man, he is not there

in all the house, there’s not a single stir

she looked into the mirror on the wall

and saw him there and thought he’d had a fall.

But when she turned to help him off the floor

she did not see his body there no more

she once more gazed into the mirror there

again, the mirror held him in its glare.

She felt a force upon her neck, a hand

and now she lies in there beside her man

she saw him trapped in glass for evermore

and now there’s two of them, or maybe more.

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