Three summer limericks

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POSTED: June 15, 2021

The wind never really reaches one part of the terrace, and in that part we have put a swing chair. This evening Irma worked late on a project with an unmovable deadline, and I sat in the swing chair.

Sitting there, as the sun went down behind the trees, I wrote three limericks.

Three princes stood high on a hill.
And the one on the left turned to kill
The one in the middle
Who put down his fiddle
And shot him for good or for ill.

Two princes looked down at their feet
At their brother whose life was complete
“He wanted me dead,
So I shot him instead:
A reversal that I find quite neat.”

One prince looked straight at the other.
“I filmed you and then whatsapped Mother.
I know what she’ll say,
As they lead you away.
Your mistake was to shoot the wrong brother.”