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Limerick Friendship Poems | Limerick Poems About Friendship

These Limerick Friendship poems are examples of Limerick poems about Friendship. These are the best examples of Limerick Friendship poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Gathering of the Golden Girls - Soup Convention

Four “Golden Girls” seated at a table
Grey streaks our hair, but minds remain stable
     Convention is underway
     Michael has something to say
He opens our meeting with a fable
 
It’s about a tortoise that beats a hare
Some of the “fast writers” begin to glare
     Joyce, Francine and Barbara know
     It takes time for verse to grow
We’re the queens of rewriting; this we swear
 
Iolanda’s introduced to read her book
“Lava of my Soul,” no gobbledygook
     We’re mesmerized by each line
     At the end we toast with wine
Joyce says, “Now those words took some time to cook.”
 
It’s Karen’s turn to read “Silent Whispers”
We see tears falling into John’s whiskers
     “Tears of joy,” Francine exclaims
     For Karen’s Best Seller fame
Applause rings out from grateful listeners
 
After the “meet and greet” it’s nearly dawn
The crowd starts to thin as our comrades yawn
     Joyce, Francine call it a night
     But Barbara still sits upright
We two remain when most others are gone
 
One poet called us “Late Night Cockroaches”
This indignity did not encroach us 
     We call ourselves “LNCs”
     Awake in wee hours with ease
Waiting for our princes to approach us
 
That’s when the James Brothers draw near
Peranteau and Fraser, to make it clear
     With two erotic writers
     LNCs pull “all nighters”
Knowing that we can propose; it’s Leap Year!
 
 
*Entry for Michael’s “A Table of Four” contest
At my table: Carolyn Devonshire
Joyce Johnson
Francine Roberts
Barbara Gorelick
 



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Tim And His Kelly Green Mustang


I have a friend by the name of Tim, He keeps in shape when frequents the gym. His Kelly green Mustang he drove And smack'd it into a cove. The witches got him and ate one of his limbs! Dorian Petersen aka ladydp2000 copyright@2014 October,5,2014


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When Mary Jo Yells Timber



Mary Jo's from the country, a real backwoods lass Chops wood like a lumberjack they're not in her class When Tot yells timber You'd better be limber Better run, don't stand there like a silly old ass © Jack Ellison 2015


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Puzzle

 if you are reading this with a face non-pale.
       and you think of nothing to tell or to re-tail.
                      not a plan to go to Paris or Shanghai.
                      not a voice in your head, annoying buzz
              asking you why?if you keep mixing tea and cola.
                                              if you don't care, a bus or cab.
                                  nor about that poor who might you stab.
                                                you ain't welcome to read my tale.
     I'll find someone who's worth the breath, who's worth my death.

                                  if you are reading this with a face non-pale
                                  and you think of nothing to tell or to re-tail
                                           not a plan to go to Paris or Shanghai
                                      not a voice in your head, annoying buzz
                          asking you why?if you keep mixing tea and cola
                                                      if you don't care, a bus or cab
                                      nor about that poor who might you stab
                                                you ain't welcome to read my tale.
I'll find someone who's worth the breath, who's worth my death.


ebrahimsharifat@yahoo.com




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Gwendolen Rix

Gwendolen  Rix

Got a  very good  friend in Gwendolen
She is such a talented  ‘Pen’dolen
How she looks is a mystery
Though I am told her history
She won’t show her photo- this ‘Friendolen’.

31/08/2012

For: 'Curiosity killed the cat' by Harry Horsman and  Mandy Tams


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Where Talent Lives

While doing my daily internet loop
I read some poems at Poetry Soup
Some souls were bared
Emotions shared
By a wonderfully talented group

So many unknowns are gathered together
Brandishing their talents without a tether
Notable skills
From gifted quills
Flocking together like birds of a feather

Whether mundane or totally bizarre
Through words they express just who they are
Some young, some old
Some shy, some bold
Each as marvelous as a shooting star

To the nameless owners of this great site
Thank you for giving our poetry flight
No longer adrift
Because of your gift
You are the beacon that brings us to light


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PD How Foxxy is She

There once was a fine buxom lass
who wrote poetry with real class
and though she was sly
real foxxy and why
that fair buxom lass was a gas!

Yes PD was not a late bloomer
her pages were full of rare rumor
she told bushy tales
of boys who ate snails
and ran from the po-po’s cruiser.

Well, foxxy ole PD’s so tart
she raised that low bar from the start
bringin’ on game
no man could tame
Unless, he’s N. Bone-a-part?

So, Linda we beg you to stay
do not leave us alone come to play
streak your hair red
get up from that bed
you know we all love your foreplay!

Tap that type, blow that screen, shred that page
yes, Miss Foxxy the world is your stage
I’m truly amazed
at your subtler ways
Your mischievous heart's all the rage!

What more can I say, I not her proxy
cause all of you know I'm not that foxxy
I’ll have to give in
end up with a grin
and beware of all the kits with her Moxie!


*6 Foxxy Limericks



 


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My Table of Three plus Me

A poetry convention is a wow
Our writes we endeavour to plough
We'll meet so many friends
To enhance writing trends
Our strengths are as thick as the bough

To my table I have decided to seat
Three ladies whom I'd so love to meet
They are favourites of mine
And they will be for some time
Their poetry to read is my treat

The first lady to seat is a gem
Her novels just shine from her pen
She's a New Jersey girl
Who makes my heart twirl
Her poetry flows 'tres bien'

The second lady to sit at my table
If given the chance, I'd surely enable
She's Maltese, she's Celene
A Mediterranean Queen
Her name would be beautifully labelled

The third lady who I now show to her chair
Her writing just makes me openly stare
It's oozes life's desire
It makes me aspire
Table Top Mountain, I wish I was there




<*> Not for any contest, but I thank Michael for the idea, ty <*>



Thank you Carolyn Devonshire, Celene Crescent & Wilma Neels for being you,xxx




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/poetry-soup-16.php









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To the Birthday Girl -and Guys

Happy Birthday to this awesome THREE: to Frank, Kashinath, and P.D. Those born this day SEVEN have blessings of Heaven in wit, charm and poetry! Resurrecting this oldie for the contest of PD: You three guys are tops with me!


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Skaterrific

There is a poet, her name is SKAT.
She read all my limy's, now that's phat.
When she was done reading.
It showed she had breeding.
So people, what do you think of that?


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The Broken Vase Of Love

Is never a crime so earn me awhole. 
For all whom thoughts were crack in noon,
And still do not think is right left being dumb.
Would in pre-nuptial undertaken sauntered, when lifted'd had  imagined what the world is of its own. If it's a wistful pan of several host or A spiteful mine of volcanic tusks?


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Poets Night Out

<                                  dancing and twisting the night away
                                    karen O'Leary just had to say
                                    Joseph Spence and Dr. Ram
                                    our convention's quite jammed
                                    hope katherine Stella's table won't sway 








Poets At My Table
 
Myself   Katherine Stella 
Karen O'Leary
Joseph Spence
Dr. Ram Mehta
 



Entry For 
Michael Falotico's
A Table For 4 Contest  
G.L. All


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A Text

Just a text to say i love you
I cant help it there's nothing i can do.
You are my best friend
And my love for you will never end.
I just want to know if you love me too


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JoJo's Memory

There once were two people online
Through e-mail their lives intertwined
They swore in each letter
That they'd get together
Neither one knowing what they would find

So one day when both had the chance
To see under what circumstance
They would think of each other
Be it friend, be it lover
Either way it'd be one heck of a dance

So the one went to the other's town
To see which emotion is found
But they must grow a bond
Before taking love on
Even buildings are built from the ground

The first day they soaked up some sun
Followed by dinner and fun
There was no stopping
Their bar-to-bar hopping
both drunk by the time they were done

They ended up at his hotel
"One more drink", she had said, "that sounds swell".
But the kissing, caressing
Led to them undressing
Ignoring their White Zinfindel

They woke the next morning perplexed
The ache in their heads had them vexed
They both had enjoyed
What they tried to avoid
Neither knowing what they should do next

So neither one spoke of last night
And both were nervous and uptight
But it would be a shame
to be pointing the blame
at what at the time seemed so right

But knowing it couldn't be ignored
They talked and their feelings were poured
They both felt confused
And a little bit used
But it was something they both could afford

When the trip came to an end
They enjoyed the time they did spend
With a kiss and a sigh
they both said goodbye
And to this day remain closest friends


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P.D. BYE

There’s a peach of a girl named P.D.
Who is a friend of both you and me
She’s gone away
I already miss her today
Her kind words and Queen Slam poetry



*If you find another sad limerick let me know*


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The Flight of the Moonbee

(Hey, Moonbee! Wait up!...)

You're visiting friends on Titan I hear?
My starship's broke down (In the shop I fear)
Wow...SATURN'S a long FLIGHT
Hitch a ride? Well ALRIGHT!
Could you drop me off at the moon, my dear?


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New Friends - collaboration

I've been getting to know really well
my new friend with so much to tell.
We've got similar work
and we share the same quirk:
Our sore bodies are giving us hell!

by Andrea Dietrich

For her friendship I'm in her debt.
Though I like Soup, it's not home yet.
So with her kind words
I feel like I'm heard
And not a nobody poet. 

by Susan Burch



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Secret

I search for happiness
But never found it again
Though it will be pursued
It will never be attain

I got lost a long time ago
And I give my heart away
It’s been broken to badly
It didn't mend up till today

She left me alone in the dark
Didn't wait to see if I was alive
alone i suffered everyday waiting
For peace of mind to arrive

And it never did came
I would lookout the window
Asking god to please help me
And just make my misery go

But the goodness in life
Has turns his back on me
And left me stuck in a time
To suffer for eternity

Why she walk out the hospital
Why couldn't she see my pain? 
Didn't she care that she might?
Never see me alive again

Now I’m scared for forever
Domed to face the world alone
Never will find a resting heart
And for ever my soul will roam

My heart is empty 
But fill with love to give
But who is going to love me
A man who’s badly defective

So the long road of life
I must travel without love
I know my mother loves me
That the only love, I’m sure off

I wish to find love again
But afraid to get rejected
Then my heart will be broken
And die when it gets infected

Right now I love some one
And keep it secret
And talk to her everyday
But will never reveal it

Will always keep her in my heart
But can never have her in my life
And I know one day I will die
If she becomes another one’s wife

And through this lonely journey
Will have lots of obstacles
Some times when I get tired
I have an ice cream Popsicle


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Portrait of Twisty Christy

Written: April 4, 2012
Gail's note:  Inspired by one of my BFF's, Christy

Twisty Christy can wordsmith a rhyme
Combining meters and thoughts so sublime.
She helps open mental doors.
You find yourself asking for more.
Each poem feels like exquisite wine.

Twisty Christy wears her heart on her sleeve.
Talk to her and it’s easy to see
That she’s one of a kind
Who sees the good in world-kind
And who is eager to help you believe.

With her wit, and a wink, she’ll have fun
And your mind will be on the run
Twisting and turning,
Expanding, sensing, and learning
Until the poem or discussion is done.



Note: Part of the Portrait Collection


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Umbrella

I had a great job
I had a pretty girl
I was moving up 
Slowly in this world

Had a good position
In the factory
And was working 
For a very good salary

Then comes the war
And things got tough
They close the factory
And at home it got rough

I thought that her love
Was my umbrella 
And when there’s bad weather 
In her arms I would shelter

And umbrella can do a lot
When you are in the rain
It can keep you dry
Until the sun comes out again

For me it seems like hard times
Had just began to pour 
And my pretty umbrella 
Had holes I never seen before

The fancy dinners we had
Now become burger king
And I guess she never love me
Just the gifts I would bring

And I brought home a pizza
And she didn’t take a slice
And when I try to hug her
Her arms were cold as ice

One day she went out
And she never came back
And when I look in the closet
She took every last rack

But what can I do
Sure I’m not the only one
Who lost their job?
And their woman was gone

Always know I had an umbrella
Now I don’t know what to say
When comes the rain
She just up an flew away

But I know the time will change
And so will the weather
And one day there will be some one
Who wants me to be their umbrella?


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Portrait of Dena

Written December 20, 2011


Miss Dena loves all purple things
No matter what her day might bring.
She loves purple clothes...
Has oodles of those -
And also wears quite fancy rings.


Gail's note: Inspired by my friend Dena.
Part of the Portrait Poetry Collection


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ROCK-PAPER-SCISSORS

ROCK-PAPER-SCISSORS
                     •	



on scorching sun with scissors of red ray
kids waded paper boats down winding bay
     huge rock slammed their course
      sails flat, with full force!
so rock/paper/scissors bets winged a tricky play
                               •	
  
although the rushed pace was like wrestling
and left their fists flushed red and sweating,
     best of  four rounds caused seizures
     playmates hid crazed wrist fissures
hours after, hungry tummies stopped pretending





P.D’s Rock/ Paper/ Scissors
By nette onclaud





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Portrait of Jill

Written on October 3, 2010

There once was a lady named Jill
Who laughed and laughed until
She rolled on the floor
Could laugh no more
And soon became very still...

Until a laugh bigger than ever
Arose and lasted forever.
Jill's laugh is never quite done
Because her thoughts are fun
And her smiling mind - very clever.

Gail's note: Inspired by my friend Jill
Part of the Portrait Poetry Collection


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Monday Afternoon at Three

I'll meet Guru Jad at three
I’m sure we’ll talk poetry
What’s new on the Soup
The latest wild scoop
While we eat under a tree

It’s nice to have a good friend
Someone who does comprehend
That words are sublime
And poetry’s fine
Our love for words a nice blend

Should have baked a carrot cake
But last night I stayed up late
We'll still have some fun
Get burned by the sun
Talk of Soupers who are great!

We might just mention you too
So without further ado
I’ll just say goodbye
Don’t miss me- please try
Cause I'll have fun without you! ;)

Eileen Manassian Ghali

PS….love ya’ll, but it sure is nice to talk face to face with a poet who is in the same PS community and who loves words as much as I do. Check him out at GURU JAD! ;) BTW...it is a glorious day in Beirut. Our campus is just blooming with life. Wish I could share the beauty and colors with you all. My beautiful jacaranda trees are about to burst into a profusion of purple color! Oh...I wish you could see it all! :) <3 Our Creator is simply amazing!





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My Friend Ben

I knew Ben.
He was my friend.
He was struck by lightning.   
That’s quite frightening.
I notified his next of kin.


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AQUARIUS: A TRUTHFUL IMAGE

Rebellious and independent,
a strong mind driven by intent;
see a face never mistrusted,
hear sincere words well-expressed...
no detail is insignificant.




 (C) Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci


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Poetry Soup Friends

My Soup friends are out of sight
When I’m lonely in the night...
Their poems I read
And come up to speed
And everything seems alright

Poems in shapes and sizes
Poets in different guises
Some are sizzling hot
Others hit the spot
Yet all deserve some prizes

Some write of nature and plants
Not one about the dear ants
Some hot body parts
Some mention the arts
While others write raves and rants

Each has a story to tell
And they write it oh, so well
Word play is our craft
Sometimes we are daft
To leave? There's no way in hell!

Eileen Manassian Ghali


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Say it's so, Joe

There once was a fellow named Joe
To the Soup, he was comrade and foe
            At times he would blog
            Then poets would flog
Yet, he always would leave us aglow


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Quadruple Limerick-THE AUSTRALIAN DINGO

I raised an Australian dingo,
no name came to mind but Ringo;
he jumped on me,
ripped my clothes daily...
it costed me plenty of money!

Only once I left him alone;
good grief... my furniture was torn!
Oh, should I be mad...
or be kind instead?
I'll sleep over it for tonight!

All Ringo did was run, bark and howl,
mistaking a small cat for an owl;
They took him away
to the zoo today;
he'll whimper form his cage, not rest!

I'll take him back, lest he behaves;
his lesson he'll learn:  good manners!
Now, Ringo just stares
to earn forgiveness...
it's fun to play with him and laugh!


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Mothers Day

Mothers are the best 
They are like a test
They are very loving 
They like a flower budding
The treat us like a fest.