Personal, Dessert Wines

Clerihews are short, unmetrical (pace some of mine, which are semi-metrical), humorous pairs of closed couplets, in which the first line must end in the subject's name. Invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley (1875-1956). The art form is today best honored in the magazine Gilbert!, to which this humble page does homage. (Warning: Clerihews are highly addictive. Compose only in well-ventilated areas under adult supervision. Combining clerihews with alcohol is discontraindicated.)

An early Bentley clerihew runs thus:

Sir Edmund Davy

abominated gravy.

He lived in the odium

of having discovered sodium.

One of my favorite Bentley originals is:

Mr. Hilaire Belloc

is a case for legislation ad hoc.

He seems to think nobody minds

his books being of all different kinds.

Some of Ed Peters' Clerihews:

If Seattle's Dr. Andrew Tadie

were not a gent but were a lady,

instead of writing books on Twain

he'd be in Annie Oakley's train.

(Midwest Chesterton News, 10 May 97)

Saint Peter

was a picky eater,

but declared after a dream one night:

"On second thought, I think I might."

Saul of Tarsus
liked riding horses
(though the Bible doesn't say
he was riding one that day.)

The English author Joseph Pearce

writes books at a pace that's fierce.

But through them all we've never worried:

His Lives unfold with grace unhurried.

(Gilbert! Dec 02)

Al Gore

is a bore.

His beard

is weird.

My friend Mark Brumley
resembles Harvey's "Doctor Chumley”
But one can hardly find
a gentler spirit or finer mind.

Father Joe Koterski

still hasn't learned how to ski.

Until he does there's little hope

he'll be the next Polish pope.

The bull-rush baby, Mighty Moses

buried th'Egyptian under the roses.

He spent the next forty years trying to flee

Pharaoh's police and his own destiny.

Father Schaller

doesn't need to holler.

Like most ex-Marines,

he just says what he means.

Charlie Harvey
avoids all larvae.
He wonders whether it's a sin
to argue with Brumley and win.

Pete Rose

poorly chose.

The Game

mourns his name.

The lawyer for Winona Ryder

is one smart spider.

Thanks to him, her mail

need not be forwarded to jail.

Distinguished Guest Clerihews:

The canon lawyer Dr. Ed

makes up diddies in his head.

But not to paper does he take them

instead he carefully blogs them winsome.

(Mark Brumley, OCT 02)

My brother Chuck

would do anything for a buck.

Actually his name is Charlie

But I think he's warlie.

(Robert Peters, NOV 02)

Ed Peters' Limericks:

Free the Papabili!

The pope-watchers list them by rote.

Each expert his wish-list does quote.

But fear not, the papacy's

more than a race, you see.

And "Vaticanisti" can't vote!

The Catechism turns 10

The Lib'rals claimed till the last hour:
"John Paul is abusing his power!"
But well has this Catechist
served us as catalyst.
My, don't those Gloomies seem dour.

Dirge of the 70's Democrats

Our favorite candidate's lustre

continues to fade as the bluster

from editor's pen

shows time and again

that honesty Teddy can't muster.

Heteronomists need not apply

The Cricket called conscience a "voice",

or, outside advice on a choice.

But Truth is within,

and helps conquer sin.

And that gives us cause to rejoice!

The two body-piercers

The looney who thinks he's an ox

still baffles the nurses and docs.

But they did figure out

how the ring in his snout

lights up when he's getting his shocks.

His girlfriend's condition was worse.

They found this note stuffed in her purse:

"Please know that I chose

the blue hoops for my nose,

and do let my Babe pull the hearse."

Ed Peters' Epigrams:

Sicut Pater, taciter, stat Faber supra nos.

Dicit nobis suaviter, "Defendo quoque vos."

Practice Latin constantly until the day you die.

(If you speak a tongue God knows there’s less chance that you’ll fry.)

Just one star out of place in a great constellation

was enough to provoke Mr. Twain's consternation.

Ed Peters' Other:

Our Janet

Though classics scholar Janet Smith

sings Roman songs and loves Greek myth,

her fav'rite ancient text of all

tells God's response to Adam's fall.

Exodus 15:21

Patiebatur Miriam
mutationem morium
cum, in fragore marium,
vidisset mortem murium.

Ex ore infantium

Ed Peters, 2002

You don't recall the night one fall when some small words I said

contented you who'd longed to know why God made sunsets red.

You climbed aloft as you did oft' and said your prayers in bed,

then, seeing Jesus on the cross, asked "Why'd they want Him dead?"

Christ struck me there and wordlessly I watched my wisdom flee,

for in the light of God's great grace seemed dust humanity.

But then at length He his showed love and taught me from the Tree:

and, pierced with pain, I whispered plain, "Because those men were me."

"Each hateful act, each cruel word, each sinful thought I've made

helped weave the crown that weighed Him down and cast the soldier's blade.

Betraying faith and hope and love so, in barbaric trade,

I stripped Him bare and nailed Him there Who had my ransom paid."

But lo! your sleepy eyes were closed, while off in quiet pine

it seemed to me the Spirit sighed and bid me stand in line

with all the others begging mercy underneath the Sign

that once again I might begin to eat the Bread Divine. +++