Limericks and Poems

By Chris Blenkarn

Lines inspired by Mr David Walsh

Madam President's been shopping today
For a sumptuous new gown, I dare say
With a collar enormous
She'll look drop dead gorgeous -
Try not to get carried away.

Though she quickly grows bored, she's inclined
To keep a few lovers confined
She got on the blower
To Mies van der Rohe
Who her vast pleasure dungeon designed.

Our Gareth's been kidnapped, oh dear
By Servalan's cohorts, we fear
In that bar he'd adorned
We all sat down and mourned
Then drank all his glasses of beer.


(I would have called it "Send in the Clones" but plagiarism is anathema me.)

I'll need a big suitcase to leave myself room
For those zines that I'll buy, and a clone, I presume?
I do hope that Hanneke's got them well packaged
Don't let Del lose his head, Carol wants him undamaged.

According to Kathy I need masking tape
A Swiss Army knife(and a means of escape?
What do they get up to, the folk of Space City?
Pin what upon Avon? That doesn't sound pretty).

To matters more urgent -which earrings to take?
Those plastic Welsh poppies are just right for Blake
My matched Liberators can't be left behind
Or the pink and blue budgies - don't laugh, it's unkind.

I've lots of cheap silver as befits an ex-hippie
And an elegant pair flown from far Mississippi
(That was one tired pigeon, it has to be said)
They're subtle, discreet and they've gone to my head.

Cheque book and credit cards, spare glasses, a corkscrew
Paracetomol, ear plugs, a clean teeshirt or two
Where the Hell's my red skirt gone? I must ask our daughter
It'll be in her bedroom where it didn't oughtta.

My Gareth's Gorillas badge has gone a bit blotchy
From leaking nail varnish (she whispered, sotto voce)
Please don't tell Judith, it won't happen again
I'll take better care from now on, ma capitaine.

I've stuffed in my stilettos*, and my long jersey dress
With a copy of the European Commission's draft guidance on the Structural Funds and their co-ordination with the Cohesion Fund, which I have to summarise by Tuesday so I'll have to write it on the train, but then that's my problem, I guess
A handful of badges, a waistcoat with spots
And a notebook and pen to record your bon mots

*(As in shoe heels, not sharp implements; we already have the Swiss Army Knife)

I've prepared a huge casserole which the family will ignore
The kids will eat pizza, it's happened before
Now it only remains my loved ones to forsake
Goodbye cat, farewell dog, for I'm off to talk Blake.

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