The Modern Curmudgeon

To ashes, and once more to dust We consecrate you, here entrust You to unending sea And to eternity Swallow hard.  Soldier on.  As we must.

Tomorrow I turn 41. What to do once these limericks are done? Will my idle hands seek Out some evil unspeak- able once this new freedom's begun?

In the night, the rain comes, the winds blow Inundating the earth down below But soon, sun ascends And slowly it ends As across the sky spreads the rainbow.

I mostly don't mind the poop. Though the vomit's thrown me for a loop. It's the hoarse, barking cough That at night throws me off As I fear the poor kid's caught the croup.

My apologies for being late With the limericks I'm supposed to create But please take consolation In this explanation: Some of them just aren't worth the wait.

This limerick has been delayed For almost a week now, today I ran out of time So now, here's the rhyme Which I think mostly came out okay.