Like Jesus, she felt God-forsaken,
like Joan of Arc, wanted a stake in
a life full of meaning,
a life undemeaning—
like Jung, she was simply myth-taken.
This limerick was originally published in Light. As far as I remember, I didn’t have anyone in mind when writing it, it was done for the pure wordplay of the rhythm and rhyme, the repetition of the J-names in the long lines and the near-identical nature of the short lines, and of course the final pun.
Formal verse covers a lot of territory from limericks at one extreme to Paradise Lost at the other. Personally, I’ll take Lear over Milton any day.
I’m with you on Lear, Robin. Loved that limerick.
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