Donald Woods’ and other limericks

LET’S have a bit of fun today with a few limericks. Many of you will know what a limerick is and how it is constructed, others won’t, so let me tell you: A limerick is described as a humorous poem consisting of five lines.

The first, second, and fifth lines must have seven to 10 syllables while rhyming and having the same verbal rhythm. The third and fourth lines only have to have five to seven syllables, and have to rhyme with each other and have the same rhythm.

Got it? Maybe you haven’t, but never mind, you’ll get the idea, and even if they don’t always scan, we’ll forgive the authors for that.

Let me start off with a few of my favourites: There once was a fellow from Rall Who went to a fancy dress ball. He thought he would risk it, And go as a biscuit, But a dog ate him up in the hall. Then there’s one my mother used to recite to me when I was a little boy: A fat lady bought a small Austin, To get in was rather exhaustin’. She could fit in her feet, And part of her seat, But the rest of her had to be forced in.

American author Ogden Nash had this on his mind about spring:

The spring is sprung, the grass is riz, I wonder where the boidies is. The boids is on the wing they say; But that’s absoid, Because the wing is on the boid.

Former Daily Dispatch editor Donald Woods, who wrote the Chiel in the 1960s before being appointed editor, rejoined the newspaper as a visiting columnist for a while in 1992. That was the period leading up to the democratic elections two years later when Nelson Mandela became president.

One day Donald let slip that he used to write a few of his own limericks and I jumped at the opportunity to use some.

He dug out a few from copies stored in the Dispatch archives. When he presented them to me, modestly he cringed at some of his efforts, saying: “I thought they were quite good at the time.”

They are and many covered Transkei which is where he grew up. Here are some of them: A trader from near Umtata Grew expert at tricks of barter. He once swopped a box For the lobola ox Of a Pondo political martyr. A very pretentious bomvana Once slipped on a piece of banana. And said as he rose From his sudden repose “Gadzooks, I’m a careless mfana!”

There was a young man from Engcobo Who used to wear clothes like a hobo And throw at each brute Who derided his suit Huge platefuls of ripe sobo sobo.

The next one needs a bit of explanation. Good Hope Textiles of yesteryear is Da Gama Textiles today. Donald’s limerick goes like this: At Good Hope where cloth is begun A textile worker’s son Inserted his aunt In a loom of the plant She emerged as a sheet finely spun.

There was a young man from Ugie Who liked a good J S Bach fugie. Till one day by gad, His Bach-ache grew bad, And now he prefers boogie-woogie.

There was a young man of Molteno Who drank too much skokkiaan vino It burn through his skin To the layer within And now he is classed as Albino.

That’s pretty good. I’m just sitting here wracking my brain for even a vestige of inspiration to compose one of my own limericks.

Sorry, I pass! However, here are a few more with South African flavour, found on the internet:

There was a young man from de Aar Who ate candy floss in de baar The Barman said Nowt! You’re too young, you get out And gobble your floss in de caar.

The Swallows came in from MOROKA

To prepare their home ground for the socka But when Kaizers, by name Had finished the game 'Twas not socka but knock-a da block-a!

I can't click the X in Xikundu Cried Liza: Mama, it's too soon to It's too hard to learn; It isn't my turn! So take me, please, back to the bundu.

Hooray, cried a mum of Cathcart You can’t tell my twin boys apart. Except when their dad Feeds them something real bad Then their thanks are pure state of the art.

In Franschoek a lady de Lille Was recently put on de pille.' Tis said without vex That a man Mister X Foots de bille for de pille for de Lille.

And that, dear Chiel readers, is what limericks are about. Hope you enjoyed them.