Ode

  Old scientists don't die they sublimate

An old colleague retires this Friday. He has been with the department for 36 years and has enjoyed a distinguished career. As is the custom on these occasions there will be a round of speeches from his esteemed colleagues. I have been honoured to take part and I would like to share with you a little Limerick I penned for the event. I will spare you the 'sensible' part of the 'eulogy'. I use the word eulogy because I suspect that he is the 'type' who will descend into a terminal tail-spin once he no longer works in a job which has consumed his life. Sad but true.

Just some background: Richard (for it is he) consumes a lot of vegetable matter...... Paaaarrp!

There was an old geneticist called Dickie,

who's diet was notoriously pernickety,

The beetroot consumed resulted in a gaseous boom

And Dickie was propelled backwards into eternity.

Old Dickie spent time in the FISH room,

Consuming copious amounts of legume,

The fermenting mass was ever so crass

Releasing a nauseous fart plume

A diet of pulse is not to recommend,

As a legion of co-workers can contend,

The resulting concoction results in eruption

And poor Dickie's colon it does distend.

So if in confined space with Dickie,

Maintaining composure can be tricky,

Don't linger too long in the resulting pong

Or eventually you'll feel rather sickly.

So it's time to farewell our friend,

Who's flatus proclivities do offend,

No longer a song or the occasional pong

Escaping from Dickie's front and rear end

Now you have got to admit that is a dreadful piece of doggerel.