Best Limerick Poems | Poetry
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The Best Limerick Poems
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Limerick Poem
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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 ********
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 **** 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 *****
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 "Rodger" 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 Rodger 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 *****
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 *****
which is, (between us),
I think, a spicy endeavor
WRITTEN BY H PENELOPE SWIFTLOCK
There was perfection in his pecker,
as a **** 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 Rodger 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 Rodger, 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
Rodger's 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
Now Rodger mostly stays home
for lack of a viable bone.
He reaches by habit
down for his rabbit:
he's got Phantom Willy Syndrome!
WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART
Rodger was a good friend of Eye
Had a real hankering for cherry pie
Tasted every chance he got
And it would hit the spot
Until his crazy wife made him cry
WRITTEN ON 14TH JUNE BY EYE TRUTH TELLER
Roger pretends that he's a sexy stud
But when the ladies find out he's a dud
they all laugh in his face
anatomically a disgrace
His manhood is referred to as "The Bud"
WRITTEN ON 15TH JUNE BY LIN LANE
Rodger thought his op was a success
When he found he had more and not less
But the surgeon's blind stunt
Sewed it on back to front
Well, he certainly lacks some finesse!
WRITTEN ON 15TH JUNE BY RAY GRIDLEY
As he crossed the footbridge, Georgie saw a duck
Quite unique and raucous, it could quack AND cluck!
(And did so incessantly)
"Hey! Hey! It's all about me!"
It loudly proclaimed, with much aplomb and pluck
WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
I also wrote another poem but this one did not turn into a collaboration -
if you read it you will see that it is quite different to my usual style
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/at_the_footbridge__2_822879
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016
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Ted’s libido has now gone astray
He refused a quick roll in the hay
So what could be the cause -
It’s the male menopause
He’s been grumpy and snappy all day!
His testosterone levels have dropped
Many Viagra pills he has popped
He drops one in his tea
It will keep his cookie
Standing up straight whenever it flopped
By jingo, Ted’s put on so much weight
It’s not down to the lunches he ate
His once perfect tush
Has now turned to mush
Ted should diet before it’s too late
His middle aged paunch has been spreading
Can’t fit in the suit from his wedding
He once was so hot
Now he’s gone to pot
And now I hear he wets his bedding
Ted’s developing male breasts, I see
So I renamed them "moobies," tee hee
They stick out so far
He needs a 'man bra'
If measured - he’d be bigger than me!
Ted’s losing all the hair on his head
(It’s sprouting from his nostrils instead)
With long hairs in his ear
Poor Ted can hardly hear
And he braids it when he goes to bed
BY JAN ALLISON
8/4/18
Mister T has trouble finding his ding dong
I have to laugh even though I know it's wrong
He's nothing but a wimp
Now that his parts are limp
Bet he knows where it all started to go wrong
WRITTEN BY LIN LANE
Ted is anxiously awaiting his date
A beautiful blond he met out of state
took blue pills from his pocket
to help rev up his rocket
but he wonders if she would rather wait
WRITTEN BY TANIA KITCHIN
"I'm so sorry". Apologised Ted
To his wife, as they lay in their bed
It's not you that's the cause
It's that male menopause
"Do you fancy a cocoa instead".
WRITTEN BY RICHARD D SEAL
Well the doc said “you need exercise”,
So it’s football today with the guys,
Roger yells “on me head!”
“Well I could do,” says Ted,
“What’s the point though, when everything dies?”
WRITTEN BY NINA PARMENTER
That male menopause can be iffy,
do more than just cost you your stiffy.
You've no more will to jerk;
it's just way to much work,
but you'll write new haiku in a jiffy!
WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART
Ted had a problem didn't know the cause
his mate told him it's the manopause
advised him to see Bill
to purchase a blue pill
Bill said this will amuse her indoors
Ted asked his wife not to sneer or mock
when he told her it was such a shock
he had tried a blue pill
to give her a big thrill
worked too well its now a stumbling block.
WRITTEN BY ROY PETT
She burst into the room and caught Ted
lying naked, aroused on the bed
thought that she was the reason
that he was now 'in season'
not brochures for a new garden shed
WRITTEN BY VIV WIGLEY
There a was guy named Ted,that was cool
He would make all the young ladies drool
Now he’s married and limp
And he resembles a blimp
The “lift” tanked and the Mrs thinks his a fool
WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y
The male menopause caught up with old Ted
He's no longer the stallion in bed
But now he takes a little pill
Before he goes in for the kill
Now his poor wife just lays there full of dread
WRITTEN BY TOM CUNNINGHAM
Ted used to be good in the sack.
`Til he started smoking that crack.
Now his wife`s had enough
and she`s left in a huff
and picked up a spare with Jack.
WRITTEN BY CHARLIE KNOWLTON
His wife asked, "Ted what's the cause"
He replied, "tis the male menopause,
I was embarrassed to mention
It won't stand to attention"
I'm afraid you've been clutching at straws."
WRITTEN BY GARY SMITH
Ted loved his "kit-and-kaboodle",
Kept it clipped like a champion poodle
But a glitch in his gland ...
Meant the thing wouldn't stand
So it hung from his gut ... like a noodle.
WRITTEN BY GREGORY R BARDEN
IF YOU WANT TO JOIN IN THE FUN PLEASE SOUP MAIL ME ANY POEMS TO BE ADDED
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2018
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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
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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
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The eighties set fashion on fire,
That’s why it’s the look I desire!
So I’ve nailed it, long-term,
With a hot poodle perm,
Just like Brian May, Cher and Mariah.
Showed my stylist a photo of Whitney
She went ever so pale very quickly,
She got acid and bleach,
Three big drumfuls of each,
And some creosote. “Yes!” I cried, “Hit me!”
She slathered me, crisped me like crazy,
I said, “Hold up the mirror! Amaze me!”
And - woohoo and way-hay!
I was Jennifer Grey,
Ripe ‘n’ ready to woo Patrick Swayze!
But then - it all got rather strange,
For my poodle perm started to change,
Seems its poodle-dog mind
Was not noble or kind -
It was dirty, debauched and deranged!
My friends weren’t impressed. They’d cry “Wowzers!”
As my perm tried to dry-hump their trousers,
It would steal all their shoes,
Roll in animal poos -
I was banned from their elegant houses.
But soon they were howling with laughter,
It would jump in the lake - I’d go after!
Chasing kitties for kicks,
Going crazy for sticks,
My new perm was a doggy disaster!
It would seek other perms! It would spot em,
Bound up close, and then sniff round their bottom!
This all got me in trouble,
With Bon Jovi’s double,
Who called the police, which was rotten.
So now I’m awaiting the chop,
Down at “Woofterz”, the dog-grooming shop.
Well, I’ll no longer feel,
Like a smokin’ Brooke Shields,
But at least all the lawsuits will stop!
6 May 2018
For Maureen McGreavy’s Contest “Tiger Lilies, Dandelions and Bearberries Oh My!”
Copyright © Nina Parmenter | Year Posted 2018
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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
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A man with a quiet demeanor
was cursed with a miniscule wiener.
He tried lotions and pills
But not one cured his ills.
Now he's a silent nail hole cleaner.
BY DALE GREGORY COZART
His todger though tiny still worked.
When he went for a wee it jerked.
He could still have full sex.
It was rather complex,
but when it was over he smirked.
BY JAN ALLISON
His wee-wee was indeed very wee
to the extent that no one could see.
When asked, “Are you a man?”
He replied, “Yes, I am.
You can follow up stream when I pee.”
BY DALE GREGORY COZART
Went out for a night with a hooker
Blonde but thick and no looker
When she saw his todger
Said my dog is bigger
You're taking me for a sucker
BY SEREN ROBERTS
A silent curse shrunk his wee to a teeny thing
I swear it is no bigger than a lil chicken wing
For sex a useless reject
Can't tell when its erect
We make jokes about his miniature ding a ling
BY MARTI
Wait a minute please, I won't tell a lie
isn't always small, it's big as apple pie
the winds were mighty chilly
affecting my poor old Willie
now you hurt my feelings, think I'm gonna cry
BY TIM SMITH
Big Bertha said, "It ain't the cubic inches
nope, the part for me what clinches
is strokes per minute
while they's in it
not a tool needs movin' with winches."
BY LIM'RICK FLATS
if you want join in the fun!
Copyright © Dale Gregory Cozart | Year Posted 2017
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Ted enjoys a quick roll in the hay...
He’s sleeping with his buxom P A
She confirmed she’s with child
Ted baulked, then got quite riled
I wonder what his wife’s got to say!
5/26/18
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2018
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Old blabber mouth gets on my wick
His attitude makes me quite sick
He plays to the crowd
Is brash and so loud
My husband thinks he's an idiot!
Inspired by Stevie Wonder Song on the Radio today - He's Misstra know it all'
WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON
Impolite blabber mouths and know it alls
completely ignore rules and protocols
nasty comments they impart
from the pit of a black heart
Jackasses like that should be kept in stalls
From that mouth erupts volcanic dribble
He taunts with words until there's a quibble
But runs with tucked tail
With a cry and a wail!
When he's bitten with more than a nibble
WRITTEN BY LIN LANE
His ego keeps growing up top
Mouths opinion not gonna stop
No poet nor bard
He's such a blow hard
Can't wait for his bubble to pop
WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH
A video was made for a surprise party. Each person, including children, pretending to spoil the surprise. Weebles were a type of toy. Little people that would wobble and not fall down. HERE is the limerick:
Who can stand them, blabbermouths in the know?
Watch those weebles wobble and watch them go!
Wee foibles whisper into ears.
It’s for a surprise party, dears.
Acting their parts, turns out it’s all for show!
WRITTEN BY Kim Rodrigues © 7/2/2018
If your “wit” doesn’t get you that far,
And all you’ve got’s blah blah blah blah,
I’ll give you advice
Cos I’m terribly nice...
If you zip it, we’ll all shout “hurrah!”
WRITTEN BY NINA PARMENTER
There's nothing more infuriating than a know it all
Who loves nothing more than to make you look small
But its so lovely when they come up
Against someone who knows their stuff
And like old Humpty Dumpty they have a great fall
WRITTEN BY TOM CUNNINGHAM
He always sings the same boring song
With a foot in his mouth, and a thong
He thinks he knows it all
But I will make him fall
Let me google it and prove him wrong
WRITTEN BY TEPPO GREN
He talks fast and has a huge head
I’m sure he thinks of “bull” in bed
His words are empty
He gets no sympathy
That’s all I have to say, enough said
WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y
I once met a man from Peru
Who said he knew better than you
He was a huge phony
And full or balony
He knew nothing, that he thought he knew
WRITTEN BY CHARLES MESSINA
I once knew a man from Brazil
A know it all with looks that could kill
once he opened his mouth
it was like a babbling spout
He was no longer much of a thrill
WRITTEN BY TANIA KITCHIN
His horse races wearing no shoes
Counts by fingers and toes by two's
His life sick and sad
Wants to be so bad
Friends happy when he has the blues
FIRST EVER LIMERICK WRITTEN BY ROBERT LINDLEY
I know someone on poetry soup.
Opens their mouth and words fly the coop.
Tries so very hard to write,
Condemnation is their plight!
A name? I cannot that low stoop!
WRITTEN BY MICK TALBOT
PLEASE FEEL FREE TO JOIN IN AND WRITE A POEM ABOUT BLABBERMOUTHS THEN PLEASE SOUP MAIL ME YOUR LIMERICK
AWARDED POEM OF THE DAY 3RD JULY - THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO CONTRIBUTED AND IS SHARING THIS HONOUR
7/2/18
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2018
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You Americans really can’t spell,
There, I’ve said it out loud - what the hell!
Though we all recognise,
And, yes, humour your tries,
Well, the fact is, you’ve failed to excel.
It would seem, as the language has travelled,
That the mould has set in - it’s unravelled,
Cataloguing your gaffes,
Could take aeons perhaps,
If I ploughed through them all, I’d be frazzled!
Don’t apologise! Don’t take offence!
It’s quite difficult, in your defence,
But, my friends, with some rigour,
And fervour, and vigour,
Your progress could be quite immense.
So if vast stateside skies appear grey,
Or the lustre has gone from your day,
You could try drinking cider,
Say prayers! Eat more fibre!
Or.. try spelling stuff the right way!
Good night my fabulous American cousins.
You know I love you all x x x
(Oh the irony... as I submitted this, I had to tick the category named “humor” ;-D)
Copyright © Nina Parmenter | Year Posted 2018
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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
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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
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(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
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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
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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
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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
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Your theory makes quite the impression
But I have this nagging obsession
A huge mass of matter
Explodes in a scatter
This is a layman's 'dumb' question
From whence came this gigantic ball?
Just how did the whole thing befall?
What was there before that?
And before even that?
And so on and so forth, et.al
Blank space, only vacuum you say?
Endless void? Flat nothing? Okay
Is nothing just nothing,
Or ain't nothing something
And what made the nothing I pray?
Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2009
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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
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Limerick Poem
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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
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Limerick Poem
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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
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Limerick Poem
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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
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Limerick Poem
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There once was a banshee called Anno,
Who was learning to play the piano.
She was doomed to fail,
And started to wail -
And now she’s a world class soprano.
Copyright © jack horne | Year Posted 2011
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Limerick Poem
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I’ve received an incredible gift
It has given my heart such a lift
But the date that I see
Is what now concerns me –
It’s the date I no longer exist!!!
Today I was gifted a 'lifetime' premium membership but it is somewhat disconcerting to see it ends on 3/20/2077. I hope TPS aren't psychic!!!!
My mother's great great aunt lived to 111 and 121 days and was in the Guinness book of records - I hope I am around a long long time to make full use of this incredible gift.
14th October 2016
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016
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Limerick Poem
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Out in the woods Trump took a nap
Under an oak dripping of sap
pants to his knees
what a big sleaze
Fresh beaver still caught in his trap
*I do not endorse this message and no actual
beavers were hurt in this poem
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2016
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Limerick Poem
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Some people you meet leave an lasting impression
Some pass through without even a mention
The ones that stand out
Leave us no doubt
Friendships for life are without exception
Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2016