Ye olde limerick

I once like to make apple tarts
I was never much good throwing darts
To add some confusion
I had a delusion
That life can be lived as an Art

I like making quiche  while at home
The smell of the pastry is warm
I saw a small ghost
Steal my hot  toast
Then he left, he went over to Rome

My husband would pray in the night
Until dawn came with its gentle light
He liked  my strange fiction
Without contradiction
I wish he were still in my sight

I miss his dear face and his smile
He knew  that I had little guile
How will you manage
He died feeling  anguish
The Devil was let out on bail

I welcome comments and criticism

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