Lymerick

It’s the 4th of July, I’m in an airport and I can’t think of anything better than this to write

The internet’s slower than piss.
I’m waiting and waiting like this:
When I click on a link,
Take a dump I would think
The page loaded but that would be bliss.

Safe trip, YN.

There was a First Lady named Clinton
Who had federal G-men asquintin'
At reams of the email
Concealed by this female
In national service unstintin'.

Landed! Thanks, PB.

The Clintons are trying to show,
Like the Bushes--It’s time we all know--
We’re a monarchy still
And each dynasty will
Switch out actors each four years or so.

There once was a fellow named Wilber
With his brother, an aircraft builder
Flew at Kitty Hawk
Somewhat less than Mach
To them O'Hare would bewilder

That cat thinks my mouse is for real
And the keyboard’s for walking on. She’ll
Drive her claws in my arms
Plop her plump body’s charms
On my hand make me click on some deal.

I once had a dog named Bingo
Who possibly was part dingo
He'd howl at the moon
From midnight till noon
Whilst I tried to decrypt his lingo

Nice one, Sanch!

There once was a stallion named Ed;
He's glue now: I fear he's long dead.
But back in the day
When "W-I-I-I-I-LBUR" he'd say,
How nature and art would be wed!

Lassie is loyal and true.
For a dog she does what she can do.
She’s more faithful than girls
With their big eyes and curls
And a boy loves his dog better, too.

There once was a canine called Lassie
Whose instincts were keen and bark sassy.
She competed with Laugh-In
And was given the gaff in
Respect to Miss Goldie Hawn's chassis.

Thx, PB, I'm just trying to keep up with you and Y/N.

There once was a dog named Old Yeller
A right fine yet forward type of feller
Had a girl named Rover
When she'd come over
He'd go behind her just to smell her

The problem with swans is they figure anything that drops out of their bills is for the fish to eat

There once were some swans who loved fish.
They would feed them right out of their dish.
Course it had to fall out
Of swan bills, slosh about
In the water till fish got their wish.

There were three beneficent swans:
Who, of fish, grew exceedingly fond.
They shared them their sup
Then gobbled them up
And mused, "Ah, tis too bad their gone!"

A swan gets a virus and dies;
A perch comes and picks out its eyes.
The bird's final wishes
Were "Feed the damn fishes,
But please stop your saccharin lies."

A sign of a shaky piece: One has to explain and apologize, but here goes...I chose a "lymerick lover" to be the protag of the "bad poet who is in love" theme for a forum prompt, the flash pieces due this Friday. Who knows maybe spotting this thread on the forum inspired this. Anywho, the "bad poet" can either be a poet who sucks as a poet or a poet who is bad because he does evil. I chose the former. So, for a little fun, my guy has flown from the U.S. to England a couple of times somehow managing to figure out his flight crew so he may be with the object of his low grade crush, a beautiful flight attendant. Here goes (This is a very pale imitation of Edward Lear whom I used to read all the time to my son. I love the nonsense stuff. The imitation is so pale, but it's the love that counts. I hope.)

Lymerick lover:

There once was a man of Shalott
Whose love had given him the hots.
So away with her he ran til they put him in the can,
Oh that poor old man of Shalott.

After enduring this and well as some aggressive passes, the poor flight attendant/love interest finds an emergency limerick pack in the seat back pocket, a pack a thoughtful crew member had given her to help her through this pass. She gave him this:

Good luck with your trip cross the pond.
Of you I never was fond.
But you'll be home soon
And you'll stay there marooned,
No love after your trip cross the pond.

Very nice, hw! :)

There once was a love unrequited:
One blossom was flush, one was blighted.
A curse of the pharaohs
On the boy with the arrows
To smile on his mischief, delighted.