She Prattled At 25 Mph With Gusts Up To Ninety

There was once a lady named Babs Bower

   Who lived 'cross town on a street called Tower

      She could talk you to death

         Not coming up for breath

            Gabbed with gusts up to ninety miles per hour
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

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Wolf Avatar
November 27, 2019 at 11:08 PM
Frghtening weather report if there ever was one, Bob! LOL. Hope this babe doesn't show up at your Thanksgvng table!... Happy Holiday! Season's Best, Gershon
Messina Avatar
November 21, 2019 at 6:33 AM
LOL...Women have a way of babbling, their motor-mouths just don't shut up sometimes. Great limerick, Bob. Charlie
Allison Avatar
November 20, 2019 at 8:35 AM
oh I know her too lol:-) hugs Jan xx
Hinshaw Avatar
November 20, 2019 at 3:04 PM
There are a lot of those types around, Jan, including men, I must admit. Best on you and as always thanks for taking time to read my nonsense - Bob
Laurie Avatar
November 19, 2019 at 9:52 PM
G'day Bob … are you sure she hasn't changed her name. I'm sure I knew her, and she could talk under water with a mouth full of marbles - thanks Bob - Lindsay
Hinshaw Avatar
November 20, 2019 at 3:05 PM
G'Day, Lindsay. I like your description of a talker better than that included in my verse! Best on you, Mate - Bob
Cunningham Avatar
November 19, 2019 at 8:33 PM
Haha , love it , made me smile as I know someone like that. Tom
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