Edward Lear
There’s a poet who hails not from here
With a penchant for bending your ear
The form he exported
Was carefully worded
The grand master minstrel Ed Lear
It’s impossible to say who wrote the very first limerick, but the traditional form of poetry seems to have existed well before the 19th century. Kudos to Mr. Lear however, for raising it out of obscurity.
Although Edward Lear may rightly be considered the Father of Limericks, due to the popularity of his nonsensical anthologies, he is not actually the original inventor of the limerick. It should also be noted that Lear never used the word “limerick” to label what he called his “nonsense” poems.
How does the Limerick come to figure on our Camino Frances? Well, on about the third evening of our walk across the Meseta, whilst we were partaking of a sharpener, Tom H. recalled a long walk he did in his York ramblers days,where it was suggested that time might pass more quickly if the group composed Limericks about each other,to share the following evening. What follows is the consequence of Tom’s suggestion.
With or without poles he’s versatile
Up hills and down dales
Along plains and through vales
Our Tom walks on with a smile. MIKE
We shared plenty of laughs with each other and I have tried to match the group’s poetic attempts with an appropriate photo.
A violinist and a cyclist,too.
When it came to the Camino
The weather was a no-no,
But she beat it did Pelegrina Sue. JOHN
There was a Pelegrino called Michael
Whose preferred mode of transport was cycle.
When it came to the Camino,
Blisters almost a no-go,
But he made it did Pelegrino Michael. JOHN
He’s done more caminos than he ought.
You can see through his vest that hairy chest
But on his head you can see that there’s nought! ROB
Our Maestro is the affable John Twort
Who plans and leads the caminos we walk
Over many a mile
With always a smile
John may be tired, but never fraught. MIKE
A musician with many a lingo.
When it came to the Frances
He fancied his chances +
Tortilla,Morcilla & Vino. JOHN
Who certainly won’t dilly-dally
He ate very slowly
A dish of broccoli
Possibly cooked by O’Malley. TOM
Whose Camino went as he planned it.
Not one for a half measure
He laughed at our leisure.
An incurable pilgrim called Ranjit. JOHN
My friend over there is a Sikh
And he’s very very fast on his feet
Since he cut off his Joora
He’s not even slower
But he’s likely to have gone while I speak. TOM
Who was forced to sleep in a pod,
He grunted, he groaned,
He continually moaned,
‘Cos he much preferred being on his tod. SUE
With which the birds to entrap,
But the birds in his mind were not the feathery kind,
So he made do with bunting and blackcap. SUE
Who amongst us no doubt is the best read!
A podcast or two, and an email………… from who?
Then he’s ready to crash out on the bed. ROB
You will find it all quite obscene.’
But she looked, and she gaped at the tortured shape.
It became the stuff of her dream. ROB
I know a young lady called Sue
Whose favourite colour is blue
She uses two poles
To get to her goals
But I’ve not yet viewed her haiku. TOM
Who pedals a bike where we hike
He’s wedded three girls
Just for their pearls
Perhaps they did all look alike. TOM
He’s walked far more than he aught
He dreamt just for fun
That we’d walk t’ Sahagun
A taxis’d be fine if we’re hurt. TOM.
The Meseta – “This is a joy, endless paths surrounded by golden fields of grain, poppies galore, solitude, silence with nature humming around you, and a real feeling of walking with the ancient pilgrims, don’t miss it fellow pilgrims “ 😊 We loved it…for the most part.
There were six Camigos from Sutton
The Meseta for them was a “ come on”
Stories about “poles” did
Not inhibit their strolls,
Celebrating in Astorga was full on. JOHN
ensuitepilgrim's Blog 
Leave a comment