My mom has burrowed her way into my brain like an evil little leprechaun. And she has done it purposefully. Gleefully. With no regard for my sanity.
It started innocently enough: Monty and I had a St. Patrick’s Day party at our house a few years ago, and I asked our guests to write a limerick and bring it with them to the party. Some of our party guests didn’t like this request; one of them (Monty) complained about it so endlessly that you would have thought I was asking him to write a book of poetry and then read it at the party. He even said that if someone wanted to get secrets out of him, all they’d have to do is try to force him to write a limerick, and he’d tell them everything they wanted to know. Another one of our guests (Mom) flat out refused to write one. She had a friend write it for her. But something interesting happened at that party—my mom fell in love with limericks. Not with writing them; she still won’t do it. But she loves giving me a subject and having me quickly turn it into a limerick. Innocent fun, right?
A few weeks ago, Mom said it would make her happy if I’d write a limerick and email it to her every morning. I immediately accepted that challenge. Day One was fun. Day Two was sort of enjoyable. Day Three lacked some heart. By Day Four, I realized what was happening: I was no longer writing one limerick in the morning for Mom. I was mentally composing them in every waking moment. Limericks about my cats. About Monty. About Monty hating limericks. About the events of my day. TV. Books. The walls. I can’t stop thinking in limericks. Even worse, I can’t stop thinking in rhyme. Every word that scrolls across my brain demands a rhyme. If I don’t give it one, it stays there like a party guest who doesn’t ever want to leave the party.
I told this to my mom. I told her the rhymes had taken over my mind. And she laughed. She loves the limericks; she loves the rhymes. She loves when I write them, all of the time. So this post is for her—it’s not a limerick, as that would be a very short blog post—but every line rhymes.
While You Were Sleeping
The clock just struck midnight but I’m still awake;
I work the night shift from dusk to daybreak.
I’m supposed to be working right now, actually,
but I’d much rather write; it’s more fun for me.
I love these hours—just me and my boys—
there’s more room for thinking in the absence of noise.
If you live here, you know—if you don’t, here’s the scene:
a small town on the prairie, shaded brown, blue, and green.
Here on the plains of northeast Colorado,
you can farm; you can hunt; you might see a tornado.
Tonight, though, it’s peaceful, just a bit of a wind
and the sound of the train coming through town again.
The grain elevators are quiet right now;
I hear owls and wind gusts; I once heard a cow.
When I look out my window at two and at three,
I don’t see any people with their lights on like me.
But my light will keep shining ‘til I go to bed
as visions of Christmastime dance through my head:
Santa’s coming to Main Street on Tuesday at night;
people will sing, shop, and shiver in the glow of the lights.
On Wednesday our community choir will rehearse,
Singing through the cantata, perfecting each verse.
Yes, Christmas in our town is Christmas done right—
the holidays here are both merry and bright.
But back to this moment—I’m still doing my shift;
I probably should work before I clock out at six.
Then again I might not; my boss is my dad.
Firing me would be crazy; it would make him too sad.
The truth is I actually do like my job;
I guess I should do it and stop writing this blog.
So good night to some of you; good morning to others;
Just one more phrase first: Word to my mother.
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Comments 16
Loved it. !!💖
Thank you so much, Jeanette! I had fun writing this one. ❤
Wow thank you, I feel the same😊, thank you!
You’re welcome. ❤❤❤
Really enjoyed this blog😊. For someone like me who can’t make words rhyme. I appreciate your moms position like to read rhymes but don’t like to write rhymes. Just don’t have the talent, but I enjoy the read 😍
I have a cousin named Grover
whose kindness has won me over.
I hope someday we can meet
it would be such a treat
In my heart, he lives much closer.
Good morning Sparrow. Well, your title , Mommie Dearest, got my attention. Without reading it, visions of a Mom, child abuse,etc. But, you made me u-turn right away when I got into your subject matter. I am pretty good at limericks, but never really wrote them down. My “Buds” and Would verbalize them, maybeto impress “the girls”, no real idea, Then you won me over, “Oh What aNight”. Git a few Frankie Valli stories, and the “key” to the group, Bob Gaudio. Not to get too far off track, enjoyable blog Sparrow, Creativity, You are an Honor Roll Student. “Keep on Blogging”. ❤️TexGen
I have a friend nicknamed TexGen
whose favorite food is Mexican.
He loves serving his peeps
his faith grows by leaps–
How grateful I am he’s my friend.
This made me smile. I loved it! I can relate to thinking in limericks.
What a nice surprise to hear from you! Thank you! And yes, I know you can relate. . . 😊❤
The last line is the best! 😀
Thank you! 😊😊😊
I love this! Great way to start the day with a good laugh! In the name of love, here is a limerick for you (now my head hurts!):
There once was a woman named Renee,
who obsessed about limericks all day,
I tried to write one,
she claimed it was fun,
now, my head feels like a lump of clay.
Yes!!!! Is that what you’ve been doing over there for thirty minutes? I love this. And now that I know how much fun you had writing it and how good you are at it, I will expect one from you every morning.
Love the blog, the challenge and especially your limerick😁
Thank you, Kathryn! I’m happy you liked it. ❤