Advice on ice
A gal who was free
with advice
Would carp not just
once, twice or thrice.
She’d bend folded
ears,
Bark orders and
fears,
Eliciting only “No
dice.”
Her content was
solid and true,
But none saw her
pure point of view.
She knew not her
place,
Nor how to save
face,
As ever her own
horn she blew.
Ere long, she
encountered the price
Of failing to be
more concise.
For flipping her
lip,
She earned a pink
slip,
At last left to her
own device.
The boss called her out on the spot:
The boss called her out on the spot:
“I’ve given you
more than one shot.
My staff is
unhinged.
Their rights you’ve
impinged.
I’m sorry. Dear
Abby you’re not.”
Her fairy tale ending curtailed,
Her fairy tale ending curtailed,
By bellowing
upstream, derailed.
For things left
unsaid
May not be misread.
She withered and
wallowed and wailed.
c2014 by Linda Ann Nickerson
This limerick incorporates these blog prompts:
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With public domain / vintage clipart
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