Verse and worse

The Probus Club of Hemel Hempstead

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Verse and Worse
Some entries to Guy’s Limerick competition

Our regular guide set a course
And our brave Probus bunch ventured forth
With a driver named Bernie
We embarked on our journey
To Ramside, in Durham, up North

The Romans would jest
That they never wore vests
'cos their togas were down to their kneeser.
When the wind blew a gale
It would rattle their mail
And the updraft would freeze Little Caesar.

The Probus from Hemel with Motts
Travelled northwards and saw lots and lots,
But dinner at seven
Wasn't quite heaven
No time for a pint or some tots.

Our coach took us to Hadrian's Wall
But we couldn't see nothing at all
As the rain came down
Some were seen to frown
And rushed us back to Ramside Hall.

There is a coach driver called Bernard,
Who is kind and extremely learnéd,
He knows all the routes
from Land's End up to 'Grout's'
and if he didn't he never got cornered.

There once was a strict chef called Fred
Who said if you want to be fed
You must sit down at seven
And you'll think you're in heaven
Or you might as well go straight to bed.

We had to travel by coach
Other transport would bring sharp reproach
It's the only transport for us
For we're known as Probus
And the train will never encroach.