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Not all of it is limericks. @Thunderfinger, FRWL will be treated in your haiku thread within the next few minutes.
Here's my collection of
3 DR NO LIMERICKS + ONE SHORT POEM
There was a professor called Dent
Whom Dr. No callously sent
To render Bond dead
But it was his own head
In which the bullets were spent.
The fisherman Quarrel heard news
He had to give James Bond his dues
But instead of adventure
It felt like indenture
He ended up picking up shoes.
Soon after that bout with a spider
James Bond came across Honey Ryder
She rose from the sea
And sang “Mango Tree”
And Bond wished he were an insider.
Jamaica’s British station head
Was killed by three blind mice
So M said, “Bond, Strangways is dead
And I don’t think that’s nice
Investigate what happened there
And also, by the way
Leave your Beretta on the chair
And take this PPK.”
(This last one was actually to be just the start of the entire Dr. No Saga in rhymes, but it never came about)
Does anyone think Bond's research
In Blofeld's Alpine summit perch
Would have turned out less stressful
And far more successful
Had he known about Ste. Anna's Church?
SONNET VIII
I wished that San Monique were just an island fair
Abundant flora on its golden shores!
Alas, it also hides a dreaded gangster's lair
And fuels Mr. Big's narcotics wars.
The crim'nal has a superstition for Tarot
And thinks his fortune Solitaire doth tell
Until unfortunately he fin'lly gets to know
That she succumbed to Agent James Bond's spell.
He's seen enough! And has his goons put her away
To be the victim of an ancient voodoo rite
But she would live to die another day
Since Bond arrives in time to save the night.
The island thus becomes the rare case of a nation
That turns out saved, instead of ravaged, by inflation.
But then you've made it.
SONNET III
James Bond is sent to Flor’da to discover
What is the essence of Goldfinger’s plan
But first he finds himself another lover
Who ends up gilded by a myst’ry man.
Bond soon plays golf in Kent against the villain
And tries to lure him with some Nazi gold
By then he’s sure that Oddjob did the killin’
Whose bowler hat is something to behold.
Then on to Switzerland. Bond’s not so lucky
He wrecks his Aston, finally gets caught
The worst thing is, they take him to Kentucky
To end up there he never would have thought.
There’s more to tell. Alas, I must decline
This is a sonnet and fourteen its final line.
GF HEXAMETER
Goldfinger tried to irradiate gold reserves crashing the market
Double-O-Seven endeavoured to stop him from making this happen
Pussy Galore and her circus did help him in working things out then
Only poor Solo got shot and then crushed in a black Continental.
The organisation called SPECTRE
Lured Bond with the chance of a Lektor
To get caught in their web
Or so thought Rosa Klebb
Until James became Tanya’s protector.
***
There once was Emilio Largo
Whose yacht had a nuclear cargo
Then Bond foiled his plot
And Emilio got shot
He should have retired to Fargo.
***
The person whose first name was Auric
Was gradually waxing euphoric
About nuking Fort Knox
But the bomb in the box
Was defused and is now just historic.
***
I wonder if Kissy Suzuki
Would agree that her bridegroom looked spooky
Just look at him, please
That ain’t Japanese
It’s a mixture of Scottish and kooky.
***
The bombshell called Plenty O’Toole
(Named after her father, you fool!)
Knew how to roll dice
But ended up twice
At the bottom of somebody’s pool.
But I'm pleading writer's block on any new limericks right now.
into your eyeball sinks.
The last thing you see
is his murderous glee
and you think to yourself "This stinks."
The guy known as Mr. Kananga
Who had girls on his grounds in a tanga
And caused such a ripple
With his extra nipple…
No wait, that was F. Scaramanga.
Circumstances have just run amok
With a moment to spare
Well, it only seems fair
He at least has the very best duck.
Without regard to your nation
I send my appreciation
To you, RTB
Sympathetically
For your kind cooperation.
Heroes are likewise just crunched
So with bravado
Take care where you go
Before things can get panty bunched.
by Allah, Buddha and Jesus
it s now up to Boyle
and according to Hoyle
its star nucleo synthesis
Or lithe, feeling light as a feather,
But down to brass tacks
I'd go with the facts
And Strawberry Fields. Forever.
James Bond's quiet life could go on
But in spite of their flirtin'
It seems rather certain
That in Twenty-Five she'll be gone.
It's just about time for correcting
The outcome that I was expecting
Madeleine is still here
But we're shedding a tear
Since it's Bond we're no longer detecting.
Circumstance leads to dire decision--
With some fait accompli
(And resolved quandary)
MI6 must support his volition.
Of whom we were totally fond
Someone said he should die
But we won't need to cry
He'll be back next year or beyond.