Sir Nicholas loved limericks
And wrote them everyday
To send to all his neighbors
Who lived in yesterday
But one day he was stricken
With a genius that was ridden
With stains of anger taken
From his deathday.


So he wrote another limerick
And filled the page with his thoughts
And sent it to old Podmore
(Whose corpse sits in a box)
And if you ask I reckon
You’ll request to see the page
Which is filled and filled and filled with
Sir Nearly Headless' rage

And here it is, the masterpiece
Which shall start this humorous writing
For surely Sir Properly Decapitated Podmore
Shall deem a sequel most inviting.


Sir Nearly:
I’m not good enough for your club?
Though they cut off my head in a pub?
What irony is this? To your head there’s my fist
For you’re Sir Properly Decapitated Podmore.


And that is it, the dreadful prose
That so horribly written inspired
This headless horseman, who was led,
To write back with this limerick style:


Thee is still on about this?
I tell you, your brains are amiss.
If I just pretend I’m sober
And I remember that October,
Weren’t you the one the crowd dismissed?


Author’s Note:

And so this couple
Shall continue to
Write thoughts of each other’s demises
But I don't know if I should eavesdrop-
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P.S. I have several other stories in all categories...