Limericks of Letterstime  
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Limericks Part 2 - Innocents Abroad

Billy Boy blue, come blow your horn,
Be a good fellow, don't look forlorn!
Hanzik's astern, loosing dogs of war,
Jellicoe's humbled, looking for the door!
The baron's gone east, near beaches white,
Staying ahead of pernicious light!
Brits curse loud and against fate rail,
While Hun dreads munch on Grand Fleet trail!
German captains exhort chase and rushes,
Calling loud for kill ring brushes!
Night is coming, the battle nigh done,
Soon to port, where there'll be more fun.
High Brits will topple, with many a sack,
But Fall will bring "The Empire Strikes Back!"

Twas a bright and sunny Saturday
And on the Mall many children did play
But we gallant few were on a mission
To meet a man who knows about fission
So many things we had to say.

I walked on out and up F Street
Moaning about my aching feet
For the night before I was out too late
But such seems often to be my fate
Saturday mornings I am quite beat.

Got to Union Station at a quarter past noon
Down to the Metro, not a minute too soon
With farecard in hand
My route all planned
Whistling a merry tune.

Rode to Metro Center on the Red Line
Paid close attention to every sign
Changed over to Orange, on which I hopped
To the first place that train stopped
Federal Triangle, the destination mine.

Early I was, and though it might not have been sound
I decided to walk the long way around
Went down Pennsylvania Avenue
Saw the White House - quite a view!
Then turned away, Smithsonian-bound.

First thing I did was find a map
But apparently that map was crap
Oh, I found a train
It wasn't a pain
But the mistaken identity caused quite a flap.

Waited awhile and eventually
Along came Gator, six foot three
Knew him at once by his Iowa hat
Later there were lots of stories about that
And all exchanged greetings, Barbara, Gator, and me.

We waited and waited, wondering where
The spielmeister was, since he wasn't there
We didn't know where else he could be
We looked and looked, but we did not see
Either jim or Rob, the missing pair.

Finally we adjourned below
To a place where the root beer did flow
Examined Buxton and talked ships
In between our soft drink sips
Until, alas, the rooster did crow.

For I had to go away
And so did they
They to see paintings
After final slaintings
And I was bound for a play.

Monday saw my return
My mind, it did churn
And lo and behold
The story was told
And of the misconnection I learned.

For, dear friends, you see
We all, the two times three
Were at different places
And saw different faces
It was all so confusing to me.

They were at a modern train, while we were at John Bull
But still I don't consider this trip null
For Gator's a good chap, and though I want him to sink
He still bought me a drink
Yet I'm still sworn to drill holes in his hull.

One day we'll try this again
This I say as I write in the rain
We'll have another convention
But at a different invention
Let's try something other than the train.

Theodore (or, an Epic of the Convention)

Limericks Part 3 - Merry Crewe

There once was a captain named Skorpion
Who commanded the great ship Kaiserin
His division he'd lead
When the Kaiser lost feed
Determined that Germany be champion.

The sounds of poor tortured cats,
Gnawed on by foul toothy rats,
The noise (really wails),
Across the waves sails,
Full of trills and hard noxious flats.

They're played from under their pits,
Quite ripe they are where each sits,
They're not for the faint,
The tone scours paint,
With impact more than Brit hits.

Yes, the Scots, who really hard blow,
Careth not how it sounds, you know,
Each does as he wilt,
In his cute mini-kilt,
Needing naught gun nor blade for his foe.

The baron's at All Ahead Flank,
Theo gloats at all that he's sank,
Though low on ammo,
His rings wear like cammo',
If you add those he got at the Bank.

Far behind lies the Grand Fleet,
Where Rudburg is upping the heat,
As he runs up their kilt,
The Brit fleet might wilt,
There're hulls enough for all's meat.

So the baron cares not a bit,
Whoever is scoring the hit,
It's still a great ride,
To win from this side,
Though he bows to your greater wit!

Limericks Part 4 - The Authors Weigh Anchor

So the ever humble Baron Letters
knowing that the Dane is his betters
calmly gives up the chase
so Rudberg can run the race
and the Baron will deal with his fetters

But Theodore, he of the rings
of death and destruction he sings
"These RN lights are a hindrance
to my goal to be a crown prince"
and so caution to the winds he now flings

Is there a struggle aborning?
on Prussian ships, aye there's a warning
to keep the pressure rising
when your fleet is eastward slicing
and the enemy won't see you in the morning

So eagerly we await the next chapter
of the saga that Jim's the adapter
will jj bring woe
to the Brits or to their foe?
that is the question we all await rapt-er

It's getting harder to rhyme, Jim old friend
I sort of hope we're nearing the end
of jj's North Sea saga
I think I'm going gaga
from trying to make verse to send

To all of you readers, I must
apologize now, I trust
you no doubt are sickened
as the "poetry" wars have quickened
for the results are hardly upper-crust

There once were jj readers galore
who never found the story a bore
but alas they did sicken
when the rhymes and bad puns did thicken
with fear they might delay the next install

So readers are mad that rhyming
has affected next Letterstime's timing
all I can say is them
is that our Spielmeister, Jim
keeps stepping into each reply, chiming!

Authors various: LA Dave, jim, Theodore (any others I've missed?)

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