There was a labourer of Bath
who got so drunk he propounded
he’d rather sleep on the hearth
For with stairs he was confounded
All night he’d go up two down two
till his little legs were tired
So would he turn fall
in a heap and go to sleep
By
a dying fire
he did
expire.
©MRL May ’16
He wore me out following him up two down two, then when he expired by a dying fire I had to chuckle...not at death but at your witty words.
ReplyDeleteThank you JC. I must be honest here but I rarely write anything witty.
ReplyDeleteI called it A Bathic not because the character lived in Bath but because it was not a Limerick and so it becomes a Bathic - does that make sense ?
:D A lovely ditty :)Haha, I see now what you have done with the title, good one, just as well you explained it :))
ReplyDeleteThank you Rose!
DeleteNow perhaps we will see more Bathic's being composed and perhaps a society being formed :)))))