Home » Poems » Paul Schneiter » Sausaged

Sausaged

Mrs. Marks made wurst in the burg of Kover
The smell made folks complain ever bolder.
Their gripes grew so great
She left town one eve late.
Now they rejoice because the wurst is over.

foodhumorlimerick

♡Like0

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Andrea Dietrich

March 25, 2016 at 8:10 PM

GREAT word play, Paul. also want to fave you . It's great to find a limerick writer here.

Andrea Dietrich

March 25, 2016 at 8:10 PM

I see Maurice Rigoler down here being all modest. Actually he IS about the wittiest guy for short forms that I have ever seen here.

Maurice Rigoler

November 4, 2015 at 9:53 PM

Hahaha! This is another gem, Paul! Somewhere in my voluminous files I have a few on the subject of Gernan wursts. As for my having a reputation for a wicked wit, I am not aware of it. Someone has misled you. If I've offened your religious sensibilities, I apologize. Thanks for stopping by. And keep those limericks comingl / M

Lindsay Laurie

September 30, 2015 at 10:45 PM

What a great play on words Paul. Thanks for the grin - Lindsay

Paul Schneiter

October 9, 2015 at 11:07 PM

I value and appreciate your kind comment, Lindsay. During my 2 years in the army in Germany, I learned to like wurst, except for Blut (blood) wurst. I never could stomach that.