BY JOHN ANSELL
Nancy-Ann is a writer of rhyme
Whose stanzas are simply sublime,
But while sprung with surprises
And clever disguises
Her final lines invariably slip out of time.
For four lines she’ll be right on the meter;
For rhythm no rhymer can beat her;
Of her lines, I repeat,
The first four are a treat,
But the fifth line will always defeat her somehow.
The constraints of the limerick limit her
When she gets to the southern perimeter:
She’ll do dimeter fine
In the third and fourth line
And then clumsily trip on her trimeter.
Usually.
