Life of a sincere, limerick?
On the fare and done, duty?
Asking in certain hushes, is to wait, sick?
Tolls of an evening bell, with sunshine's lucre...

Has met a new friend...
Toward integrity, we keep a shrewd liberty
To know one and another, the best possible amends
That come to fruition like a walk and a stare, with curiosity?

Dread is a cold should's soldier, with a family to feed...
Found in a future hug, a witness to the honor; we pray...?
Persuasion in a tale spin, to linger and say, I thought taken heed...
True to one's roots, if not routes of composure, to ask all of any?

Seldom has said hello
Seldom has a savior's lip, for may and decency
Seldom has a sharing voice, that lets life bellow
Seldom has said goodbye, but when you step forward, it is beauty

Seldom is your, spy, whatever...?
Water and mercy for youth, is nothing but climbing
Cares to see the end of them, is a quieter house lover...
With timid moments to share, a promise on fire with minding...?

There was an Old Man with a beard,
Who said, "It is just as I feared!—
Two tweakers, a rat, and a cat in a hat
Have all built their nests in my beard."

There was an Old Man of Connecticut,
Who possessed an innate sense of etiquette;
He'd lay down the fork to the left of the spork,
That mannerly man of Connecticut.

There was an Old Man from Earth's center,
Who left it and couldn't reenter;
He crawled out a hole like a man who's a mole,
And lost his way back to the center.

There was an Old Person of Skye,
Who spent his days wondering, "Why?"
When they asked, "What's the word?" he replied, "Haven't heard,"
That discouraged Old Person of Skye.

There was an Old Person of Sligo,
Whose motto was "You go and I go."
He went here and there building castles in air,
That imaginative Person of Sligo.

There was a Young Person of Ghana,
Who grew Ghana's best marijuana;
He grew it, enjoyed it, and was super annoyed it
Was very illegal in Ghana.

There was an Old Person of Perth,
Who buried his gold in the Earth
And then plum forgot whereat was the spot,
That forgetful Old Person of Perth.

There was a Young Man of the South,
Who mouthwashed with whiskey his mouth;
He spoke with a drawl, saying yes'm and y'all,
That drawling Young Man of the South.

There was a Young Person of Boston,
Who wandered around and got lost in
The Chinatown section with a raging *******
That poked out an eyeball in Boston.

"How pleasant to read Mr. Lear!"
Who surely was scroobious and queer;
Old Foss was his cat in a runcible hat,
And he couldn't abide ginger beer.

There was a Young Lady who tweezed
The hair from her nose as she sneezed;
She then plucked her eyebrows from lowbrows to highbrows,
That plucky Young Lady who tweezed.

There was an Old Person of Cairo,
Whose exploits were carved into hiero-
glyphics on stones where a pharaoh's wrapped bones
Are preserved in a chamber in Cairo.

There was an Old Man of Kampala;
He prayed in the morning to Allah,
And in the bright light of the day, and at night,
That observant Old Man of Kampala.

There was an Old Man of Burundi,
Who prayed to the Salvator Mundi
Who met him upstairs and who answered his prayers
And who sainted that Man of Burundi.

There was an Old Man of Djibouti,
Whose substance was frothy and fruity;
A regular dandy with pickles and candy,
He dandled the Dongs of Djibouti.

There was an Old Man of Manilla,
Whose favoritest bean was vanilla;
He climbed up a tree and befriended a bee,
That beneficent Man of Manilla.

There was an Old Man of Beijing,
Who'd study all day the I Ching;
He balanced his qi with white rice and green tea,
That mystical Man of Beijing.

There was an Old Lady of Donegal,
A sister named Mary McGonegal;
She ruled with a ruler every pre-to-high-schooler,
That punishing Lady of Donegal.

There was a New Baby, whose nose
Was loving the smell of a rose
When it noticed the riper brown smell of a diaper,
Which offended that New Baby's nose.

There was an Old Man of Hong Kong,
Whose nose had a luminous ****;
It lighted his way by night and by day,
That lucky Old Man of Hong Kong.

There was an Old Person of Crete,
Who walked on the ***** of his feet;
When they asked why it was, he responded, "Because,"
That taciturn Person of Crete.

There was an Old Person of Finland,
Whose cabin was upland and inland;
He lived in a region where fish spoke Norwegian,
That flapperous Person of Finland.

There was an Old Man of Geneva,
Who had an encounter with Shiva;
They patty-cake played in a hornet-loud glade,
Shiva and the Man of Geneva.

There was a Young Lady of Paris,
Whom ****** couldn't embarrass;
She wandered the city with ***** and *****
Exposed to the city of Paris.

There was an Old Husband of Arles,
Whose wife had a passion for quarrels;
All day and all night she'd invite him to fight,
That exhausted Old Husband of Arles.

There was an Old Man of Kyoto,
Who mastered supremely the koto;
His tea was the greenest, his dragon the meanest,
His koto the best in Kyoto.

There was an Old Man of Algiers,
Who listened with elephant ears
To streams and to trees and to birds and to bees
That delighted the Man of Algiers.

There was a Young Lady of Arles,
Who married a ****** named Charles;
When they asked, "Does it fit?" she replied, "Not a bit!"
That unsatisfied Lady of Arles.

There was an Old Man with a beard,
Whose ****** expressions were weird;
He'd grimace when glad and he'd twinkle when sad,
That curious Old Man with a beard.

There was an Old Man
Of Japan,
Whose limericks would never
Ever
Scan, that instupendious Old Man of Japan.

In a world where science would meet,
A woman with bionics so neat,
Jaime Sommers, so strong,
Fought for right, against wrong,
With a heart that never missed a beat.


Her limbs were of steel, oh so fine,
Her strength and her senses, divine,
She'd battle and fight,
With all of her might,
A hero in every design.


With Oscar and Rudy, her mates,
She'd tackle the most dangerous fates,
In justice's quest,
She stood out the best,
In the hearts of fans, she relates.

As I rotate without and within
When I’ve died I’ll be born yet again
I’ve come and I’ve gone
Like the dusk and the dawn
Can a cycle be said to begin?

When negative thoughts are uprooted
So sadness and fear are excluded
Then shunning adversity
Stifles diversity
Leaving the landscape denuded

There’s a mind that relentlessly rioted
And honestly couldn’t be quieted
Distraught by illusion  
It hungered for fusion
Like Plato’s original dyad did

There’s a novel in which I’ve been caught
But my storyline’s tied in a knot
Come villain or lover
I’m drawn to discover
The author who penciled my plot

There’s a state of profound integration
But the ego demands separation
       So the mind flips about
       Like a panicky trout
Who’s deprived of essential hydration