There was a young lady named Bright
Who traveled much faster than light.
She left one day
In a relative way
And returned on the previous night.
Or if you prefer English-major-y meta-limericks:
A decrepit old gas-man named Peter
Whilst hunting around for the meter
Touched a leak with his light,
He arose out of sight,
And as anyone can see by reading this, also completely destroyed the meter.
☹
I like those poems. While we didn't get limericks today ("There was a young man from Nantucket") here's some Ogden Nash, from memory I swear:
There's something about a Martini
A tingle remarkably pleasant.
A mellow, a yellow Martini—
I wish that I had one at present!
There's something about a Martini
Ere the dining and dancing begin,
And to tell you the truth, it's not the vermouth.
I think, perhaps, it's the gin.
Some of those English or maybe Dutch gins are a bit yellow.
Or if that's too happy for you, here's one of Blake's "gnomic triumphs," in the words of Harold Bloom.
The Sick Rose
O Rose, thou art sick.
The invisible worm
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
Have a nice day!
Nothing but limericks Saturday. Nothing but.
There was a young man from Savannah
Who died in a curious manner:
He whittled a hole
In a telephone pole
And electrified his banana.
—Anonymous
The invisible worm!
Einsteinian limerick for the scientists among us:
There was a young lady named Bright
Who traveled much faster than light.
She left one day
In a relative way
And returned on the previous night.
Or if you prefer English-major-y meta-limericks:
A decrepit old gas-man named Peter
Whilst hunting around for the meter
Touched a leak with his light,
He arose out of sight,
And as anyone can see by reading this, also completely destroyed the meter.
Our Miss Snooks? Is that Principal Conklin asking? And where's that Walter Denton?