I’m missing a number of teeth
From above and a few from beneath
It wouldn’t be great
To wear a false plate
But I need to, or my name’s not Keith.
I’m leaving my igloo sub-polar
To look for some energy solar
My teeth will still chatter
But that doesn’t matter
The last line must end up with ‘molar’.
My pet theory’s just been disproved
And I know that I should be unmoved
But don’t ask how I feel
Coz it’s truly unreal
Like a shark with teeth freshly removed
The teeth on my gears, post Madrid
Are shattered, so guess what they did.
They ran an upgrade,
And that, I’m afraid,
Will cost me five slots on the grid.
I’m doing some stuff on my blog
About Eos, our lovely new dog,
But Trev was aware;
His teeth he did bare,
And said we should go for a jog.
This week's challenge at esthernewtonblog.wordpress.com asked for a limerick featuring the word teeth.