In the long-running tradition of writing limericks in a tent when on holidays with my Dad comes today’s poem.
Since as long I can remember, my family have played with words and music for fun. This is everything from making up limericks, to changing the words of a favourite song, to creating a half-hour long song & dance spectacular to celebrate someone’s birthday. Limericks have traditionally gone hand in hand with camping, a practice that was cemented when Dad and I drove across the Nullabour together.
This poem was once again borne in a tent with my Dad.
There once was a virus Chinese
Which brought Cabinet to its knees
It infected Dutton
Who had to be shut in
And we hope ScoMo loses the keys.