These Nostalgia Limerick poems are examples of Limerick poems about Nostalgia. These are the best examples of Nostalgia Limerick poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
He held my hand all the way home that night.
Crossing through the graveyard gave me a fright.
That was where he first kissed me,
In the graveyard, so misty.
That was my first kiss in the pale moonlight.
He was a tall, dark and beautiful guy
And I was young and incredibly shy.
My pounding heart, it did race.
Was it the kiss or the place?
Yet remembering it just makes me sigh.
Willie McKay, he gave me my first kiss,
Filling my young heart with oh, so much bliss
But he was leaving for war
And I would see him no more.
A lasting impression left on this Miss.
for "first Kiss" contest
* I was 15 and he was a 21 year old sailor,
My mother was dating his CO and they arranged this date.
After the movie he walked me home and cutting through the
cemetary of St. Peters' church, I had my first kiss.
Once was a gal who felt so alone
Tornato came up rooted farms home
Landed on wicked witch
Munchkins came out of ditch
Gave dog lollypops instead of bone
Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding dong
I stood up to put my mask on
Grabbed the bowl of mixed candy
Took one more sip of Brandy
The smallest one was dressed as Tron
Stanleys' plane circles wild, fro and aft.
Ollie screamed up: " Throw me a raft!" Oh Ho Oh Ho Oh Ho Oh Ho.
with gathering gators
I won't be here later
One just gave my drawers a big draft. OhhhOhhh....
When they opened the gator to see
which intestine poor Ollie might be.
He plops out pratfall
then looks at us all
and smiles: " hm hm hm, I'm still me."
Stanley: " But I thought.. I thought you were eaten..oo whooo whoo whoo..."
Oliver looks at us, shrugs and throws his arms up.
( Cue music.)
Coo Coo Coo Coo, Coo Coo
This is inspired by Miss Carrie Richards, one of the best.
This Is Another Fine Mess You've Gotten ME Into, Stanley...
There once was a skinny horse name George.
Poor ole soul lived alone in a gorge.
Three fit sheep came his way.
They were traded that day.
Matted, bony, his belly engorged.
Onward He forged, living on the brink.
I’ll save him, one young maiden did think.
Head hung; life was his game.
George, his infamous name.
She prayed; from his needs, she did not shrink.
George would not drink; lips were cracked and dry.
She asked God, “Please don’t let him die.”
Water was his kismet.
Sweet feed filled hope’s bucket.
She cut out mats; whisked away each fly.
Six months later, George was still alive.
Lips were moist; he ate; began to thrive.
With some flesh on his bones,
And relieved of his groans,
The day of her moving would arrive.
The time came when George had to be sold.
Half Arabian, not very old
The old trader’s capers,
You promised them, the young girl cajoled.
How could he live; does he have luster?
Papers lost; no death by distemper.
Confessions on that day,
The girl went away.
Compassion to the horse did whisper.
New owners bought him, his health still poor.
His price and potential was the big lure.
They quickly changed his name.
Greener pastures, the game.
Star’s beauty became his life’s encore.
© June 7, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: A Horse Story
Sponsored by: Carol Brown
(Based on a true story)
I still have dreams of my favorite car
It took me to places not really far
On some days it would not start
One day it just fell apart
So few moments we were on par
Grandpa was a jolly old winker.
And I was a nine year old stinker.
He was a fish getter
But I did him one better...
I caught Grandpa... hook, line, and sinker!
How far I have come from dear Ireland,
from Erin to the "Land of the Free."
My heart, left on that shore,
I shall visit no more,
and my image they shall never see...
Remember those first imports from Japan?
It seems they were all built for a small man.
Well, the times have changed.
Things are rearranged.
Japan’s building them as big as they can.
When you started drivin'
You'd want to go dive in
To the passion pits
And watch all the hits
At the good ol' Do-Drive-In