THE MUSE HAS DESERTED ME … THIS IS THE FINAL BATCH!
Your contest is really terrific, And I’ve found that I’m pretty prolific, Describing Graves’ woes, In metrical prose, And rhyming big words like “specific”.
Hashimoto’s, not Graves’, is my fate, And it puts me in slow, hypo state, But your contest is not, For the thyroid I’VE got, So for now, I’ll pop Synthroid and wait.
With each symptom I daily amass, I keep waiting for flatulent gas, Each new pain that I get, Brings another regret, That Graves’ ISN’T a pain in the ass.
Hashimoto’s and Graves’ are but two, Diseases not named after you, So to gain certain fame, Just attach your surname, To the next ache or pain you pursue.
Hey, you’ns all got some limit yer settin’, On how many lim’ricks yer gettin’? I can’t think of no rhyme, For dat Graves’ thing dis time, But I’ll have me one later, I’m bettin’.
By my count, this makes thirty-three, Limericks I have been sending for free, I’ve got Graves’ Disease, So I’m down on my knees, If I DON’T win, I’ll charge you a fee.
Ok…here’s my entry!
There once was an Endo from NantucketWhose Graves’ patients were ready to chuck-itYour numbers are FINE!They’re God’s GRAND design!Ha! ha! so long to the doc from Nantucket
actually, I could not decide which ending I liked best, so here isanother version of the one above,
There once was an Endo from NantucketWhose Graves’ patients where ready to chuck-itYour numbers are FINE!They’re God’s GRAND design!I THINK NOT, said the patients of Nantucket
This was fun! ….Carolyn