Ellison 3d
A mister came by to song a good sing
He didn’t have nickels for dimes
And tunes shed freely to come in and ring
For all the fun woody old times.

He fiddled a fiddle to pluck a red truck
And song out his words by a stile
Some boys run about in their own little luck
And saw mister forge a small smile.

Canary a fairy of small little ladies
Crowd about a shop selling oak hay
In their own Ethel minds of small little babies
On wooden red cradles they lay.

“But come one and all to the man playing south”
Said a poster girl out with a cry
“Say he’d come on and in with a gun to the mouth
And we’re all having orange pumpkin pie.”

I come to the pass with a glass in my hand
Saw the mister grin granny o’swong
And felt the glass fall to the crummy white sand
Heard the shards crawl a fangled new song.

“You caused me a pain to my heart with my name”
I tell mister out with a voice
But he played on regardless of no having claim
Of the music playing out of his choice.

Mister my sister you cause quite a blister
But I’m not giving up quite so soon
Cause I’m staying right here with my girl and I kissed her
On the forests sprouting up after noon.
Just a fun little limerick about a pan handler.
Steve Apr 9
My Wife Mary
Was incredibly hairy
With a thick wooly coat of fur
Head to toe covered in hair
You may think that’s quite scary
But it was just hereditary
Her mother was a grisly bear

My Sister Kim
Was a little bit dim
She asked what IDK stands for
When I said I don't know she stamped on the floor
OMG she said, nobody does, I'm off to the gym for a swim.

My Uncle Cyril
Flew down from the Wirral
Where he was known as a ladies man
With an extremely large wingspan
You know what I mean, he was virile.
Pardon my myopia
But I thought this was utopia?
Did I take a wrong turn?
It’s so hard to discern!
When the evidence contrary is so copious!
Fiction, I’m not really in a dystopia but I have always loved the sound of the -opia words :)
A lady name Peggy did claim
cum with me, not the same
finger she greased
for greater release
her men, they never complained
I'm kinda anal today ;D
(please see last poem)
Cné Mar 18
A leprechaun told me, “I hear
It’s riches you’d like to appear.
Since I don’t exist,
My pot of gold’s mist —
You’d better keep writing, my dear!”
There was an old guy from UK
his hair was balding and grey
he loved to waffle
it isn't unlawful
but he just couldn't get it to pay

There was a poet named Gregory
he had a really good memory
words were his game
but oh what a shame
it sent him straight into beggary

There was a poet named Mary
like the rhyme she was contrary
she liked to write poems
drinking from jeroboams
what she wrote came out rather scary
Waffle - a word game
Just having some fun!
I was gonna limerick
yes, this I know
overdone, overrun
dead at the show

So I did this instead
yes, it's not great
ugly, misshapen
I'm sure you'll relate

Sometimes the words
come on out of my head
the form and the fixture
in rhythm are wed

A malady pained
we all have our cross
indelibly stained
and poetry lost
Having to force it sucks :(
There was this lass, whom I liked too tease
taking her, down upon my knees
lapping her lips
honey too drip
copious spurts, when she'd sneeze
I'm stuck in a limerick groove
unable to wiggle, or move
romping in sewer
searching for newer
nothing to do, or too prove

And no, her name wasn't really Patty ;D~~
Cné Mar 13
She met him south of the border in Durango,
She was hot and boy could she fandango!
She said at a glance
"Señor like to dance?"
“No”, he replied, “But I would love to tango!”
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