They said it couldn’t be done, they said it was madness. To write a limerick as thus surely would fall flat on its face. See what you think and what is so peculiar about this “rhyme”
There once was a silver wolf,
Who after ninth pint said enough,
He drunk up some orange,
But orange was boring,
So he sought a more dangerous gulf.
There we go; as mad as a box of frogs as far as I can see.