I Refuse To Count Sillybulls

There once was a poet who despaired though blessed with a fair amount of flair that he was way too thick to master limericks counting words an arduous affair Limerick-writing he'd master not count sillybulls, meter and whatnot the elusive punchline's too troublesome to find with his thoughts roughly tied up in knots Spatial dimension impediment a meter doubled in measurement at the best of times three lopsided prosody shoddy despite its being eloquent Sillybulls ignored and miscounted charge around angrily, discounted with their hoofs on the slam they step up the bedlam bewildering chaos uncounted With pep talks and deliberation resolved: they're too high 'bove my station so to rhyme he should stick and give up limericks where wordcraft counts naught but summation *Sillybulls = syllables. My thanks to Ephraim Crud for the loan of the word. To Wignesan: am I stooopid or what???