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Forum Limericks added Barry, Marti, Geoff, Gatekeeper


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dded Barry, David, Marti, Geoff, Gatekeeper
Forum Limericks
A guy from Rhode Island is Tony
it’s his work that rings true, never phony
he steps up to the plate
to write is his fate
And his images sing life's testimony

It's a Badger, the bard in clear color
his work gives a smile or a cry, it’s a muller
master of form
all you ladies I warn
he is charming, disarming, a luller

Now there's Barry who writes from the UK
it's a walk through his dreams with in one day
an Eclipse of all others
writes never of Mothers
with a photo of Keats on display.

Then Dave Parsley is known for his art
He's a seer with a plan from the start
he writes sonnets of love
and long poems from above
his devotion emits from his heart

It is Benjamin paints with the word
he is Geoff to the members who've heard
It's his talent we cheer
He is good never fear
and no verses will ever be slurred

Ah my man of the world is our Marti
he employs form like a pro, he's a smarty
Now from Texas he hails
and his heart never fails
to deliver a poem to inform or to party.

There’s a doctor or con-man among us.
his poems are thoughtful and righteous
so is this a scam
at least it’s not spam
just enjoy and you’ll see, he’s ominous.

Then there's Douglas a chap from Cape Town
like a cutter of diamonds on countdown.,
his poems are sharp
like the strings of a harp
his words sing with the zing, he's renown.

A Gatekeeper haikus with skill
I would love to read more at will
with words short and sweet
is the way that we meet
Catch the train to a place on the hill

A gent from the south is our Rhyme Guy
he is gracious and wise in his bow-tie
he is willing to learn
any technical term
and observes from his heart with a kind-eye 

In Manila there is Joel writing verse,
with words fluid and true, never terse.
In a world set apart
on an island of art
he sends poems into space for the universe.

Adding me to this list where I Tinker
it is fun to create I'm a thinker
it's my passion to learn
for the art I will burn
with my heart and my brain and my winker.

And our English contingent Frank E
with poetic, historic decree
is quick to write tomes
with Grimm’s little gnomes
and a boon to this board, all agree.        Frank is lost to us now.  He will always be missed.

In Japan there's an Irish Dedalus
with his lilt he fluidly captures us
historical rants
and occasionally chants
It's Brendan who's among the best of us 

It's Yarnspinner's  trucker that got me
a sad tale in a musical emotional spree
he emotes from the soul
it is tears he will dole
In the snow we will go with a memory.

From Buhtan there's a poet who's Golden
it's the Tanka unique emboldens
imagery at it's best
her poems bequest
an exotic display we're beholden. 

The Marshall in town we call Linda
she patrols with her heart in the wind-a
she’s quick on the draw
to give a hurrah
and her poetry ’s pure disciplined-a

Now it’s Nick who will hate to be rhymed
but it's better than he being slimed
a master at lyric
I’d say hemispheric
and his comments are always well timed

It’s Barooba you’ll find at the pub
he performs while he’s eating his grub
his language is strong
even said to be wrong
so we keep him in line with a club.

There is Blog-jamb who’s mastered the sonnet
writes of presidents, love and her bonnet
his tomes he could sell
like his sweet Villanelle
with the praise that is lavished upon it.

It is Lake that can calm us with Zen

as serenity flows from her pen

she will rest for a while

’neath the tree with the smile

then she’ll write us a haiku again.

Now it’s Jonathan’s tats that intrigue me

do they match the great art of his poetry?

When the seagulls fly west

are they inked on his chest?

Is he Carlo or Seagull, who is he?

Now summayyah is young and alert

a heart we don’t want to have hurt

should her young man aspire

her heart to acquire

he must first wine and dine with dessert.

Aleksandra was known to like cake

it was sweets that would give her an ache

so her boyfriend conspired

a grill he acquired

at their café she now orders steak.

In our group is a lady named nia

she writes poetry, sweet panacea

the folks are beguiled

but don’t get her riled

to test her is one bad idea

Anastasia’s a poet of merit we do find

just beyond the pooled light unconfined

her words come alive

like a buzzing beehive

from her verse, pollinating your mind

At four in the morning you’ll find Larsen

but don’t fret, he’s not planning an arson

Victor simply can’t sleep

and he just won’t count sheep

he writes verse that’s approved by a parson.              Victor has also passed from us.  We miss you Victor.

So, what do I do with til’ Sover?

I wish that he hailed from Dover.

he drove a blue truck

in the rain and the muck

and he fished from a meadow of clover.

It is Wistful who lives in the barn

she can spin a delightful turned yarn

it’s her ship coming in

if wrecked, its a sin

then she’d swim to shore wet, no, oh darn!

The Portuguese offer us J T

Picasso can’t rival his creativity

an artist so fair

paints with words bare

and the fire he sings us, proclivity.

The Monster’s a young one with edge

but to tame his panache he does pledge

he’s on the right track

and we all have his back

a fence when he steps on the ledge.

Manoel, a young friend from Brazil

will make film and write ads for a meal

he divides him from Him

on a creative whim

his talent and charm seals the deal.

Now aureryr has me stumped

from this series I almost bumped

rolls out in barrels

ignoring the perils

but I hate to see anyone dumped.

A man on a mission is Grasshopper

now, I know he could tell us a whopper

but he simply tells tales

a flight he unveils

I listen as if I an eavesdropper

Our Canadian Miss Ivy, I think is a shy one

yet she shares poems with us in the bright sun

her images all brand new

she prays twice, you can too

the inkblots congeal and her poem is done.

The Canuck we adore we call Fader

he’s the opposite of the dread Darth Vader

with his brother he fishes

and he grants us 3 wishes

his tomes are eclectic, a poetic crusader

About Anna who lives in between

twixt what and what does she mean?

images seen through a lens

scribed with her colorful pens

she displays observations, she’s keen.

There’s spauldhr the poet from France.

with tomes choreographing a dance.

to want is to haunt

and maybe to flaunt

the music of words is not by chance

A Frenchman who goes by busard

a funny dodo who landed here hard

now sits on a bench

sings of love in French

and is welcome to play in our yard.

(the funny dodo is busard’s expression not mine)


~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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  • 4 weeks later...

Oh, my heavens! I do declare! Where IS my fan?

Haha, thanks for the mention. I have been silent a while, and I am honored.


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Oh, Frank AND Victor. I did not know.

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I hadn't brought this up to date and you couldn't be left out.  Yes we  have lost a couple permanently but their memory remains as does their poetry.  As a matter of fact a couple of others we think have passed also but have been unable to verify. A lot of poets here have come and moved on in one way or another.  There are a couple in this series of limericks that I actually don't remember.

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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And what of this story named "Tinker"
To what in her past do we link her?
She played with pots and pans?
Made toys of old tin cans?
Or maybe was a childhood stinker!

from the black desert

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  • 2 months later...
Terry L shuff

I think tink did all those things,  she's an all around Lady

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