Trying to earn my poetic license
Glenwood Springs, CO Colorado
I wrote a limerick last night. I had forgotten how therapeutic writing with rhythm can be.
That explains my dancing-to-Salt-N-Pepa obsession lately.
Sure, it was more about dryer lint than a girl from Nantucket. But that gave it clean charm. Limericks don’t always have to be dirty.
But they sure are funny that way.
This course of action prompted me to do a little research on limericks. Not surprisingly, the Internet has a bounty of these ditties to waste hours of my life on that I’ll never get back. But trust me, I’ve wasted countless hours being way less productive. Like watching Hollywood stars ballroom dance. Making red velvet cupcakes for myself I couldn’t possibly eat alone. And applying mascara.
Even magnifying glasses in place of my lenses couldn’t make my eyes look bigger.
Since I have a little Irish in me, I have a little thing for limericks. And corned beef and cabbage. Since it had been awhile since I’ve written a limerick, I had to do my research. First, a limerick is five lines. I also learned, historically, clean limericks are just not that popular. But for newspaper and radio purposes, I have to keep it nicer than naughty. Santa is always watching.
At least that’s what my mother used to say.
Apparently an English fellow named Edward Lear made the limerick quite famous in his book of prose titled, “A Book of Nonsense.” That sounds about right for any book I could ever write.
Maybe it’s time for a follow-up.
I could start with, “There once was a girl from Glenwood Springs …” The problem is, not that many words rhyme with Springs. Maybe that book of nonsense will only be like three pages.
Which would be the definition of nonsense, right?
Maybe if it were a pop-up book it could stretch to about 30 pages. So, the nonsense starts here, if it didn’t already start five years ago when this column started.
There once was a girl from Glenwood Springs,
Who learned how to spread her wings.
She went rafting on the river,
Tested the strength of her liver,
And drove a car with plenty of dings.
My dad – and any other man who has driven in a car with me – can appreciate that one.
This one could make it into the pop-up book, as well:
There once was a girl from Carbondale,
Who sang like a frightened nightingale,
She loved to attempt karaoke,
If she were a Smurf she’d be Jokey,
And her favorite beer was an India Pale Ale.
The nonsense would probably stop here:
There once was a girl from Aspen
Whose white legs she was always maskin’,
She went to the pool
The boys started to drool
Until she found a spot in the sun for baskin’.
Maybe this girl from Glenwood Springs should keep her day job.
April E. Clark is here all week. Don’t try the veal. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Support Local Journalism
Support Local Journalism
Readers around Glenwood Springs and Garfield County make the Post Independent’s work possible. Your financial contribution supports our efforts to deliver quality, locally relevant journalism.
Now more than ever, your support is critical to help us keep our community informed about the evolving coronavirus pandemic and the impact it is having locally. Every contribution, however large or small, will make a difference.
Each donation will be used exclusively for the development and creation of increased news coverage.
Start a dialogue, stay on topic and be civil.
If you don't follow the rules, your comment may be deleted.
User Legend: Moderator Trusted User
Glenwood Springs Police Chief Joseph Deras lamented his department’s inability to maintain a constant presence downtown during a virtual public forum Monday night.