This is a follow up to my limerick, "Ottava Rima".
From an idea proposed by Kim Rodrigues.
This is my first Ottava Rima.
Nice girl Ottava Rima knew her place but in her very private room did write a limerick which in this special case was bluer than the dark mask of midnight. Could she read it with a pious straight face? She'd have to; Palm Sunday was in plain sight. She went to church and read her naughty verse. The priest died of shock, she laughed til she burst.
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