As I type this it is fairly latePerhaps it would be better to waitTill the morning to writeNot at my best tonightAs my poetry would indicate
You would rather be producing prose That is not how blogging always goes If you don’t have much time And you know how to rhyme Then claim you’re a poet and compose
That Sinking Feeling This limerick is something I wrote In work when trying to stay afloat My quest for buoyancy Meant metaphorically Because I’ve never worked on a boat
Though virtual meetings are oft prone To provide many reasons to moan They may have to take place When there’s no face to face But don’t do Teams for two, use the phone
Though I might seem enthusiastic Technology is quite fantastic Yes my phone is so cool It’s a wonderful tool For tweets that are vaguely sarcastic
. A head cold never brings me much cheer Regardless of the time of the year I feel lost in my head And my nose is bright red So I look like a famous reindeer.
The first month of the year is not great After Christmas we’re all overweight And we try to be good Cos we know that we should But there’s way too much green on my plate!
Perhaps I have too little will But I will have another refill For though Christmas has passed The red wine seems to last And I’m starting to feel rather ill
It is hard to believe but it’s true There is still so much food to get through It’s delightful to taste Can’t let it go to waste Though I won’t stray too far from the loo
Did I really just drink all that wine? Aside from nausea, I’m still feeling fine Now the Bordeaux has gone Bring the next bottle on If I’m conscious then I won’t decline
Sometimes I look like I’m working hard Paying each task I have due regard But an observant view Will reveal it’s not true My work ethic is quite the canard
Although the week has taken its toll I have chilled beer and snacks in a bowl It is time to unwind But I can’t seem to find The television remote control
Some days when I get out of my bed I cannot seem to switch on my head Autopilot is on Common sense is long gone And I just can’t function till I’m fed
Piles of paper increasing in height Are beginning to block out the light If my desk is a mess It’s a clear sign of stress And my sanity has taken flight
Blogging daily is no easy trick Don’t want to rely on a gimmick But when time is quite tight Is it ok to write A pointless and facile limerick?
The last few days have been quite severe I’ve been waiting all week for a beer Or a nice glass of wine Would be equally fine I am so glad the weekend is here
I cannot abide my alarm clock It’s an unpleasant pre-sunrise shock I wish I could sleep more And continue to snore A desire that my timepiece does mock