I was going to scribe this post
so to my numerous friends I could boast
about this little literary gimmick
that is known as the Limerick.
They would laugh and I’d be their toast.
I had a long chat with my Mam
about cooking some Limerick ham.
With sauce, cabbage and potato
and mustard ‘twould be great to
bring raging hunger to calm.
To the butcher I went for the swine.
Billy carved and trussed it with twine.
Once my plan I imparted,
the butchering he started
and my three kilo joint looked divine.
I boiled it in a pot of hot water
for about an hour and a quarter.
With much satisfied glee I beamed
while it rested and steamed.
“What a lovely aroma” said daughter.
To the ham water I added some cabbage.
It adds flavour to the veg, by adage.
I made sauce and chopped in the green
parsley, for fear of it being mean
and stirred it to prevent lumpy damage.
What a dinner we were prospecting.
With anticipation we were vesting.
I sharpened my knife
and said to the Wife
“No picking now, don’t be testing”.
To try to pair ham with wine
for others might prove to be fine.
For me there was no decider,
so we drank some nice French cider.
From tree proving better than vine.
There’s little more to say at this time.
I enjoyed writing my Limerick rhyme.
I hope you liked this little ditty
as we liked the ham from that city.
With parsley sauce its sublime.