Why wait for February 14th for a romantic evening, declaration of love or friendship, to exchange cards or scoff chocolate hearts when we celebrate our very own patron saint of lovers this week. St Dwynwen’s Day was actually yesterday–25th January, so this weekend is fair game to do something special… just saying.
We have a St. Dwywen’s celebration that includes making up limericks, but are given Welsh place-names we have to work into the rhyme–this year, there were two: Chirk and Neath. Anyone up for the challenge?
Oh–and a question about Welsh limericks–is there such a thing?
Oh absolutely there are Welsh limericks. Among others, Wil Sam (W.S.Jones) was a well known writer of them, and Dewi Prysor also writes them although his can tend to be a bit more…um… colloquial!
Do you have to work Chirk and Neath in (in English) or Y Waun and Castell Nedd?
There once was a nudist from Chirk
Who was sadly a bit of a berk.
Whilst admiring some petals
He backed into some nettles
And now he can’t sit down at work.
There was a young florist from Neath
Who removed thorns from a rose with her teeth.
She often thought “Crumbs,
This is hurting my gums”
So she married a dentist called Keith.
Ah Yes, Friends. thank you–I can see we are on a roll–and all in the name of love
There was on old lady from Chirk,
Her duty she never did shirk—
Dispensing love potions,
And sweet-smelling lotions
That apparently always did work.
There was an old fellow from Chirk
Who seemed to be going berserk,
But to impress a nice blonde
Of whom he was fond
He found was a lot of hard work.
There was a young fellow from Neath
Who liked to flash his white teeth,
So smiled all the time
‘Til churchbells did chime,
And now says—“Boy, what a relief!”
There was a young maiden from Neath,
Whose beauty challenged belief,
But “Young men beware–
Her red lips and red hair
Could bring you a whole load of grief”.
Hey, but this reminds me… did I ever tell you about the wedding I conducted for two Treckies? At the rehearsal, I told the groom to fix his eyes on me until I could see that his bride was ready at the back of the church, when I would indicate he should turn around to face her–warning him to remember that as the priest my mic would be live once the service began.
Next day, the groom and his groomsmen turned up all beautifully attired in matching Morning Suits and beautifully behaved. When I could see the bride taking her place, I swallowed hard before giving him the signal to turn to greet her. She was dressed as a Clingon, complete with a natty little neckband of metal spikes. After one glance, the groom turned back towards me and said “Beam me up Scotty!” The whole church could hear him, including his dearly beloved who stormed down the aisle, and it went downhill from there…
So Captain Kirk–I hope you have better luck in Chirk
I’m in awe of a friend on the Forum
who certainly practiced decorum–
while making me laugh,
doing nothing by half
wrote in English and Welsh–let’s applaud 'em!
