Mary had a wee lamb,
It adored her so darn much.
& everywhere that she went-
To market, the museum, or the lake..
The lamb was sure to go.
One day it followed her to school...
And learned about legends ´nd myths,
Then it received a great big shock...
Of why it had a horn,
It wasn't a lamb,....but a unicorn.
There once was a man from Legume,
Whose farts could be heard from the moon!
When least you’d expect ’em,
They roared from his rectum
And howled like a raging typhoon!
The funny thing is...
I used to go out of my head
Thinking up poems in bed.
It had to be deep,
Or I couldn't sleep.
Now I write limericks instead.
There was an old man in a shoe
He knicked and he knacked until blue
He started to pick
The happy slapstick
And old Mother Goose joined in, too ...
Jane, Mother of Four
Jane once was the mother of none
And then she had one plus three sons
So now when she shits
In their urine she sits
'Cause aim is a skill for not one
All mothers have kids who will bicker
And nag, cry, and pout, even dicker
Moms of two for peace pine
Moms of three grab some wine
While Jane, mom-of-four, downs the liquor
After healthy development staging
Jane watches her sons slowly aging
She sends up a prayer
That her sons won't get scared
When someday her diaper needs changing
A limerick challenge was waiting
for rhyme (without rhythm abating).
Words plopped into place
to marry the pace
while humor got stuck in the grating.
I needed a way to unstick it
(that laugh that was lodged in the thicket
of whirl-minded word,
soon written absurd)
before all the Prosers would picket!
Just then, in a moment inspiring
my fingers fair flew with desiring
the ditty below
for gauntlet to throw
(and get all our cylinders firing).
There once was a poet so dandy
who lived on a beach long and sandy
the problem so sad
that this poet had
was that he was not very handy.
He often would burn his potatoes
when cooking. To can his tomatoes,
he took on a chef
(with moniker “Jeff”)
who promptly flew off to Barbados.
When it came to cleaning or mopping,
the poet would spend his time chopping
up words to apply
(in hopes they would dry)
as cover for dust-bunny droppings.
He’d stumble in haphazard fashion
while trying to live out his passion
of life by the sea;
Alas! Woe was he!
He never fared well on sea-rations!
The moral; if one finds it needed,
is happiness might be impeded,
without and within,
but chin up your chin,
when life hands you limericks screeded!
It took me four hours to boil the meat.
And two more hours to dice the leek.
By the time I was done,
The visitors were all gone
And there was no one there to eat.
I once met a girl in the rain.
All thoughts they did fly from my brain.
But me a kind fella,
Shared my umbrella.
And now our daughter's named Jane.
I once knew a man who was down
so I decided to buy him a town
I was hoping to change his frown
He accepted my gift and went out
saying he was going to purchase a crown.
There was once a Limerick yet to be writ,
Humpty Dumpty was put up to do it;
They brought him in piece by piece,
Each saved by his niece from Nice,
His fractured jaw still chomping at the bit.