The Neverending Limerick Story 2

Taken from the ongoing Word Games section of the Storyteller's Circle

<<Rules & Start    More>>

The cousin was carried along,
In a tree! And we know that that's wrong -
For trees should be rooted,
Not wading unbooted
Through loam, humming long-winded song!

 Young Nob of Bree was dumbfounded,
With mouth agape, confounded.
For what appeared to be
An apple tree
Held Hob aloft, and bounded!

 "Hi, Hob!" shouts his tubby employer,
"You come back! A-stop actin' coyer -
You're off without leave,
And your paycheck I'll cleave
Right in two if you don't mop the foyer!"

 Then Barliman came to a stop,
Wiped his brow and let himself drop,
"You'd best get your cousin,
Or it's my floor I'll be fussin'
With your own wooly pate as the mop!"

 "Oh help me!" he suddenly cried.
"If there's anything i cannot abide;
it's manual labour,
so do me a favour,
and find me somewhere to hide!"

 Hob found himself fixed by an eye
Of green and as deep as the sky.
With melodic voice
It seemed to rejoice:
"Hoom! And where shall we go, you and I?"

So off Hob and Ent went around
trying to not make a sound
so they wouldn't be heard
and not saying one word
walking silently on the ground!

"Oy vey!" cried unfortunate Nob,
And ran to the stables for Bob -
"A tree's got our Hob, Bob,
An' boss is a job snob -
We'll sneak out an' hie it for Hob!"

 Now Hob was a curious sort:
He said, "'Twould give me great comfort
If you told me, please,
What kind of trees
Step out of the earth and cavort?"

 The tree upon which Hob sat
walking away from the man so fat
took one look around
and muttered a sound
"Oh what an inquisitive rat!"

 "I am not a tree-get that straight.
But an Ent, whose unhappy fate
Is to wander these lands
With branches for hands
Searching for my long lost Ent-Mate."

 I've searched for ages on end
Longing for my long lost ent-friend
from the east sea of Rhun
to the far west of Lune
and north and south my pathways wend.

 Young Hob looked down in shock
giving the tree a gentle knock
"Good day fine sir,
Are you pine or fir?"
Then swiftly dodged a flying rock.

 "I am neither fir nor sir!
But an Entwife, so listen and learn:
I've wandered afar
Under many a strange star,
Never to great forests to return."


<<Back  Next>>