Submit Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Best Limerick Poems

Below are the all-time best Limerick poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of limerick poems written by PoetrySoup members

Search for Limerick poems, articles about Limerick poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Limerick poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

See Also:

New Limerick Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Limerick poems are below this new poems list.

Quigley Fell Under by T.M.C, Eve
Overheated by Schneiter, Paul
The Old Guru by Rigoler, Maurice
All I Have Left by Horn, James
After Forgetting To Fret by Horn, James
Trump Was Hard Pressed by Horn, James
Trump Mustered Out by Horn, James
Forgot To Sing Christmas Carol by Horn, James
Hillary To Save the Day by Horn, James
Trump Deals Are All Bogus by Horn, James

View all new Limerick Poems

The Best Limerick Poems

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

AT THE FOOTBRIDGE - LIMERICK COLLABORATION

At the footbridge Sue was meeting her beau (He was married to a woman called Flo) Sue soon found out his deception She dismembered his erection For his love life it was a massive blow To the hospital fled poor Rodger For an op to repair his todger Now fixed, it's SO big Rodger grunts like a pig in porn films as Rodger the lodger Inspired by but not for contest BY JAN ALLISON 7~18~16 He promised Flo he never would leave her And she would be his only receiver But she caught him with Sue And his chances were through Gnawing off wood when he neared her beaver WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH Sue castrated that cheating deceiver With one whack of her meat cleaver she pulled a Lorena Bobbit turned Rodger into a Hobbit Sue's now known as an "overachiever" WRITTEN BY MARTI SUTHERLAND Across the table sits sweet Amee Once A Roger, before he became a she The master of infidelity So many personalities Before and after he became an amputee.. WRITTEN BY SKAT A He was known as a terrible stoner With a huge un-deflatable boner It now sits in a jar At the end of the bar A reminder to all of its owner... WRITTEN BY JOHN LAWLESS It’s become a tourist attraction As a symbol of female subtraction Grannies sneak in for a peek Everyday of the week Dreaming of former of love action. WRITTEN BY MARK WOODS Oh how sad that pork missile should be unemployed but for all there to see if science, in a jiffy can rejuvenate stiffys then the first in the queue would be me! WRITTEN BY VIV WIGLEY Flo wanted to give Sue a high five For slicing Rodger with all his jive A two timing fool Who broke every rule Now lil Rodger don't work in overdrive WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y Rodger's story has been immortalized For having his thingy circumcised It's on display in a bar Now hanging in a jar While it's slowing becoming crystalized WRITTEN BY MARTI SUTHERLAND As she ponders on what to eat Hopefully, it won’t be red meat For there on the log Is Rodger's hot dog So she gets excited and jumps off her feet. WRITTEN BY WINGED WARRIOR There's a lesson I really must blurt To all those blokes out chasing some 'skirt' When you're on heat Don't share your meat 'Cause your todger might really get hurt! WRITTEN BY MARK WOODS Poor forgotten noteworthy Sue Looking so gloomy she blew At the pickled todger once belonging to Rodger kissing good times its last adieu WRITTEN BY EVE ROPER As "Roger" snaked out of the door It went past a room on tenth floor. A woman therein Said "Come right on in." she kept screaming, "More, I want more! WRITTEN BY ANDREA DIETRICH After Sue chopped his tally-whacker Poor Roger became quite the slacker He tried to bring his pecker forth Never again to be pointing north Now when he pees he sits on the crapper. He stopped at the house, the red-light was on Knocked on the door, the girls were all gone Stuck with his sawed-off boner Tonight He's going to be a loner Damn, why did the girls all have to be gone? BOTH POEMS WRITTEN BY JAMES ANDERSEN A group of limericks quite clever Began with one simple sever Of engorged penis which is, (between us), I think, a spicy endeavor WRITTEN BY H PENELOPE SWIFTLOCK There was perfection in his pecker, as a porn star he was a wrecker, but to his wife he was unfair, so she severed what was down there, now his only job is director. WRITTEN BY CASARAH NANCE Poor Roger thought he was being slick when he carved out a handcrafted prick he rubbed his new attire his precious toy caught fire Now he is left with an ashen stick WRITTEN BY TEPPO GREN An ashen stick means man minus prick. Poor Roger, now a eunuch, without a fix. He decided to become a transgender. Then off he went on a bender. Woke up married to a man from Bertrix WRITTEN BY JEAN MURRAY Rodgers new love was a prudish fox but for brains she had a head of rocks he splinted up his willy popsicle sticks look silly he said it was new and still in the box! WRITTEN BY SONNY ROPER (EVE'S HUBBY) To be fair "At the Footbridge" Now to be completely fair And to stop every persons stare Rodger was not actually circumcised As he was a player, so don’t be surprised This was from wear and tear and his willingness to share WRITTEN BY MARK PAUL VAN DER MERWE


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

JAN ALLISON has a Fan

JAN HAS A FAN


Jan Has no Tan

I once saw a gal called Jan
So sexy she made me ran
Straight to the vicar
Said marry us quicker
Whilst she drank her tea on the can


She is as White as pure Sand

I once met a gal in white dress
I fell straight in love I must confess
She was drinking her tea
While I stared at her knee
Surely my intentions she guessed


She Sips Her Tea Daily

I once met a gal drinking Tea
My heart was pumping in glee
From her nose to her toes
When she smiled I froze
So charming I become a devotee

While I Admire Her so Gayly

When I saw the lady in the white dress
My thoughts she I did undress
As she gazed out the window
She caught peeking Jimbo
Who was in quite the state of distress


I am a fan of the great poet Jan

There once was a gal who could fart
She refined it into an art
Her white dress in a breeze
Would lift till you sneeze
But she’ll always be my sweetheart




Notes: I just realized the title, as far as Jan is concerned , well could have a double meaning!


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Desperate Housewife - in limerick form

Listen to poem:
A desperate housewife I knew
had such mundane housework to do.
Being so tired of it,
she decided to quit.
Then off to Las Vegas she flew.

Having always been such a lithe girl,
she thought “I’ll give dancing a whirl!”
Her audition went well.
From a large oyster shell
She emerged, so they all dubbed her Pearl.

Her skin, soft and fair, shone like dew
as she smiled with eyes crystal blue.
All the men threw her money
as her voice, sweet as honey,
called out, “Let me entertain you!”

As Pearl danced each night, looking pretty,
Her husband, back in her home city,
was fit to be tied,
thinking maybe she’d died!
Poor fool didn’t have a clue, did he!

Unbeknownst to sweet Pearl, her “dear” spouse
had been sneaking off as she’d played house.
To conventions he’d said
he was going. Instead,
he’d been gambling in Vegas, that louse!

Off to strip clubs he’d gone every chance
that he got. How he loved to see dance
naked women all sizes 
in sexy disguises
while his wife at home longed for romance.

Now the tables were very much turned.
And her husband was feeling quite spurned.
He would sleep restlessly
thinking where could she be!!
But her whereabouts he never learned.

No longer could he run away
on a whim. He still had bills to pay.
That cleaning and cooking
meant no time for looking
at girls! He had less time to play.

In Vegas, his wife had come far.
In fact, she was a superstar.
Wearing naught but a fan,
she’d entice every man,
then drive home in a pearl-colored car!

Her spouse lost his job. The years fled.
His wife he then had declared dead.
But with no job in sight,
he’d stay home each night,
with loneliness causing him dread.

Do you think this guy ever has let
his conscience feel any regret
that his wife did so much
while he gambled and such?
Has he learned anything at all yet?

Did he marry and get a new bride?
Did Pearl go and change her sweet ride
to a sleek red Corvette,
and did SHE marry yet?
I leave it to YOU to decide!


Written June 2016 for the Desperate Housewife Contest of PD


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

Looks Can Be Deceiving

There was a young girl whose silk skin
Was sewn up with some thread and a pin.
     It would drive the men mad,
     That sleek layer she had,
Well, until she took off her silk skin.

By Anne Currin


Copyright © Anne Currin | Year Posted 2012

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

His funeral

That he planned his funeral is factual
And being a prankster quite actual
He prerecorded his voice
So when we kneeled on the joist
He said, "Hi there! Don't I look natural."


Copyright © Judith Angell Meyer | Year Posted 2008

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

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
 




Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Contest

(The Contest)

I once knew a gentle poet boy
Pretending to be the real McCoy
   He lost two in a row
   This is no game show
At the end, I felt used by the playboy


(The cold rain)

I wish I could take back the HM
Don't know why you chose to condemn
   I thought we were friends
   Now I see through crystal lens,
How you think all your poems are a top gem

(Not a reason to hate)

I once knew a girl with heavy makeup
Behind her smile, her face was corrupt 
   She was in it for the race
   Wanting all her poems to place
She did not win, now she's all worked up
    


SKAT


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2015

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

SPRING FORWARD

In spring time fresh flowers are rising New lambs in the fields – not surprising In every hedgerow and tree Lush beauty will surround me It’s heaven; there is no disguising 02~16~15 Contest: Spring Forward -Debbie Guzzi Syllables checked 9 9 7 7 9


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

Finding BigFoot

For BigFoot I searched everywhere.
In all the Northwest, he’s not there!
Then I thought I might know
where a BigFoot might go . . .
so I went where the barbers cut hair!

To fit in and be like the rest
of us humans, he’d look his best.
so I went to each shop
where I thought he might stop
to have hair removed from his chest.

To Hollywood soon I was led.
I’d heard of a man with a head
like a wolf’s, full of hair,
making everyone stare.
What I found was Hugh Jackman instead!

Then a man I could not see too well
crossed my path at a fancy hotel.
When I got a good look,
that was all that it took!
It was furry but small, Steve Carell!

The last guy I saw in that land
of Hollywood stars acted grand.
That guy, very hairy
made Big Foot less scary.
He went by the name Russell Brand.

From Hasselhoff to Bradley Cooper,
some hairy guys are super duper!
I kept at my quest
when to the southwest
I moved, for I’m always a trooper.

I searched high and low, five years more,
but by then, I had grown very poor.
I had always liked shoes,
so thought I would choose
a job in a classy shoe store.

Like Carrie in “Sex in the City,”
I loved my work, and I looked pretty
with swank heels on my feet,
yet I felt incomplete
There was no Mr. Big! Such a pity!

But while working one day without care.
I looked up  Can you guess who was there?
This odd creature so tall
made Shaquille look too small.
And he hardly could hide all his hair!

No fresh smelling flower was he,
but kindly I sensed him to be.
As I stooped down to put
my hand on that Big Foot,
I knew fate had led him to me!

Written by Andrea Dietrich 









Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

GIMME A BRAKE

A UFO went to land in Dakota
But the brakes didn't work one iota.
        It didn't take long
        to decide what was wrong
seems the space ship was made by Toyota!


Copyright © RALPH TAYLOR | Year Posted 2010

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

To the POETS who broke my heart-A thru Z

~Arthur Vaso~

He danced on hearts and graves
I became his words slave
Romantic a wink,
and I start to think
for me his bleeding heart raves.


~Lyric Man~

You fiddle a melody
that I know not meant for me
I can't help but smile
in romantic denial
your lyrics are my poetry


~Sebastian Aaron Baez~

Tongue like sexual honey
Writing right on the money
but so far away
and there will you stay
because you thought my proposal was funny


~Tim Smith~

All knows we played a game or two,
And you left me right out of the blue
There is no jealousy
coming from me
since I know that your honesty is true


~Adam Hunter~

So close but yet still far
I know just who you are
You're on my list
Yet you resist
Next round, you buy at the bar


~Richard Lamoureux~

Your words are so really real,
Your truth are the real deal
commitment on your finger
made for a real stinger
your a great guy that makes me feel.


Now its time to break all hearts in return
For you all my sweetest men, poetically I burn.
Keep on writing because you rule
and your souls are just dang cool.
Together let us all love laugh and learn! :)
Love you all my soup guys and gals :) Mwah
Happy Valentines day!!

For Contest: A valentine limmerick


Copyright © Casarah Nance | Year Posted 2015

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

HE'S SMOKIN'

Sir Henry was playing his flute He also was smoking cheroot But when his attire Was soon caught on fire I’m guessing he’s not so astute! 04~18~15 Contest: Famous Einstein Quotes – John Freeman Albert Einstein Quote ‘The only source of knowledge is experience’ ~awarded 1st place~


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Arc Of Life



Travelling through life resembles an arc We start out as a child emerging from the dark To reach a crescendo Establishing a tempo Then sadly we all must eventually disembark © Jack Ellison 2015


Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2015

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

Justice - A Parable

A woman gave birth to a son
named Justice; he had little fun.
If he wanted to play,
his mama would say,
“But only when Justice is done!”

Poor Justice, from morning till night,
tried hard to do everything right.
By the end of the day,
he still could not play,
for his time to do chores was so tight!

His life was a crime with no play!
We all know that crime doesn’t pay.
But were I in his shoes,
having paid all my dues,
I think I might just run away.

Well, sure enough, Justice did flee
and ended up in Tennessee.
With no place to belong,
he felt sad till along
came a girl who smiled tenderly.

Looking ragged, he asked (with some shame)
if the young girl would tell him her name.
“Can you guess?” said the Miss.
“Here’s a clue. It is this. . . 
Those who have me don’t take all the blame.”

The young man did not have a clue
what her name was; it was all new.
He’d never hear of
- yet soon grew to love -
this girl  and her charming name too.

Today Justice likes more his life
because this girl lessens his strife.
He learned her name well
when in love he fell
and Mercy he took for a wife!

For the Story Poem Contest Poetry Contest of Carol Eastman


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

MARY IN THE DAIRY

A curvaceous lady named Mary Just loved having sex in the dairy When smothered with whipped cream Her beau would lick her clean… His Calorie intake was scary!!! 14th June 2016


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

Election Coin

.





                                Once again the coin has been tossed
                                to choose between just dirt and dross
                                Insults from ridge to ridge
                                on how to build a bridge
                                in town without river to cross




10/29/2010


Copyright © Ruben O. | Year Posted 2010

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

GROWING Together

After six months of living with you
I found it amazing how we grew
     As the passion seemed to fade
     The worst signs of this charade
Were the clothes I couldn’t fit into

Lovemaking’s a form of exercise
And then when it stopped, what a surprise
     I asked you if I looked fat
     You said, “There’s no truth in that”
As you consumed even more French fries

But the doctor’s scale would tell no lies
Some 25 pounds my weight did rise
     Still you refused to believe
     Just continued to deceive
Till friends noted YOUR increasing size



By Carolyn Devonshire
For Judy’s “Short Poem Contest”


Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Oscar Wiener Dog

A dachshund named Oscar was he, which adored trick or treating with me, so I had me some fun when I sewed a cloth bun, for a Halloween weenie he’d be. On his costume I added a trim mustard yellow, but though he’s not slim, he’s no Oscar Mayer, so don’t raise his ire by taking a bite out of him! For the Dachshunds contest of Rob Carmake(oops, that was CarMACK. haha)


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

Viagra Falls

There once was a man from Niagara
whose wiener's so long it would stab ya'

but when it got little 
his pills became skittles   
until he O.D.'d on Viagra

© ~JSLambert  2011*****A classic "stiff" competitor, standing "firm" amongst other "members" in the "thick" of the competition:) hope everyone gets "a rise" out of it!


Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Farm Yarn

When we were young boys on our farm.
A fish tale never meant any harm,
We oft were given a look,
When from such a tiny brook,
We claimed a fish as long as your arm.

But then our neighbor named Meg,
Beat the fib and put us down a peg,
By claiming from the same brook,
With not a worm on her hook,
She caught a fish as long as your leg!

Well that truth was quite hard to beat,
Then Summer beat a hasty retreat. 
Winter changed the fishing world,
Meg turned from tomboy to girl.
And now this fishing tale is complete!




For John Freeman's "Fishing Limericks"


Copyright © Robert A. Dufresne | Year Posted 2011

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

Valentine's Day Musings

All year long he puts my heart on a shelf
No surprise I’d rather be by myself
     If there’s no Valentine treat
     From this worthless hunk of meat
He can go on making love to himself

Remember there’s an “I” in Valentine
So if no one’s around to say, “Be mine”
     Just splurge – get a new hairdo
     Party with an all-girl crew
Check out the divorce rate and say, “I’m fine”




*For Francine's Valentine Limerick contest


Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

Boozer Not a Loser

A billionaire, he knew each wine by name

Todd Worthington of inheritance fame

      Blindfolded he taste-tested

     Fans watched so interested

Until a street boozer put him to shame


Fred stumbled in, challenged Todd to a race

Though Fred was not skilled in fine social grace

     Drank Todd under the table

     Todd out cold, Fred was able

To acquire high society’s embrace



Written June 18, 2011 
for Francine’s “Bottle of Wine (Fruit of the vine, when...” contest”


Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

I Met This Charming Moonbeam Last Night

The arms of the willow started to sway
and this curious glow rippled my way.
While flirting with my feet,
nature played a song so sweet.
The lake our dance floor 'til the sun's first ray.


Copyright © Kristin Carter | Year Posted 2005

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

Ice Cube Pie

I always wanted two slices of ice cube pie
“You only get one”, was the standard reply.
I don’t know why I did
But since I was a kid
It was my favorite treat on the Fourth of July.

The pastry is known by all our relations
Since the recipe’s passed down for generations.
Every bite you’ll savoir
Exceptional flavor
But remember, don’t settle for imitations

Long ago, my great Aunt tried experiments
By leaving out one of the ingredients.
Once Uncle took a bite 
He stared out in fright
And barely survived that bad experience.

My oldest son, Johnny became quite wise
He grew up like the others, before our eyes.
His passion for confection
Was a gainful connection
When he opened the first ice cube pie franchise.

Soon after that, we made our first million
And played in the sun with friendly Brazilians.
But to our surprise
We saw ice cube pies
On bamboo platters next to our pavilion

Right away we knew this was an infraction
Without delay our family took action.
We found a private eye
Who loved our ice pie
But his research left him broken in traction.

It was apparent to us that that kind of job
Was endorsed by the brutal ice cube pie mob.
But we didn’t frown
Or give up and back down
We were going to prevail; oh, yes siree, Bob!

With a meeting of minds we gathered resources
And then undersigned the following courses.
To make sure our ices
Sold at cut-rate prices
To knock competition off its high horses.

So back at the shop we assembled platoons
To build enough pies to reach to the moons.
And made plenty dough
That allowed us to mow
Down the cube racket’s, knuckle dragging goons.

We now manage an ice cube pie monopoly
Sales started smooth, but then turned choppily.
So we eased the frustration
With another vacation
But guess what we saw in downtown Mexicali?!




Copyright © David Fisher | Year Posted 2013

Details | Limerick Poem | Share this poem | Create an image from this poem.

Rock Paper Scissors

Rock Girl

You are scissors, and all you can do is to cut all those paper hearts through. But I’ve hardened my heart and before you can start to destroy me, I’m going to SMASH you!
(Gosh, PD, they won't even permit the ~sign in the title!)


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011