Limerick Ware (Limerick-off Monday)
It’s Limerick-Off time, once again. And that means I write a limerick, and you write your own, using the same first line. Then you post your limerick here and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.
The best submission will be crowned Limerick Of The Week. (Here’s last week’s Limerick Of The Week Winner.)
How will your poems be judged? By meter, rhyme, cleverness, and humor. (If you’re feeling a bit fuzzy about limerick writing rules, here’s my How To Write A Limerick article.)
I’ll announce the Limerick of the Week Winner next Sunday, right before I post next week’s Limerick-Off. So that gives you a full week to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday at 11:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
I hope you’ll join me in writing a limerick with this first line:
While shopping for fantasy-wear…*
or
A woman appeared unaware…*
or
My break pads have suffered some wear…*
or
I would never buy ready-to-wear…*
or
My wife disappeared — don’t know where…*
*(Please note that minor variations to my first lines are acceptable. However, rhyme words may not be altered, except by using homonyms or homophones.)
Here’s my limerick:
Limerick Ware
By Madeleine Begun Kane
How I wish I could choose what to wear
Without worries that people might stare.
‘Twould be lovely to skirt
The whole issue (no shirt,
Dress, or leggings) and simply go bare.
Please feel free to write your own limerick using the same first line and post it in my comments. And if you’re on Facebook, I hope you’ll join my friends in that same activity on my Facebook Limerick-Off post.
To receive an email alert whenever I post a new Limerick-Off, please email Madkane@MadKane.com Subject: MadKane’s Newsletter. Thanks!
Tags: Clothing Humor, Competition Limerick, Fashion Humor, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Nudity, Poetry & Prompts, Writing Prompts
My wife disappeared — don’t know where,
And I can’t say I very much care.
Once she found some one new,
I took that as my cue
To move on with my au pair affair.
Her knee pads have suffered some wear.
It’s from gardening she tells me, “I swear!”
But I’ve seen her in action,
Once she’s gained some traction,
And frankly, I try not to stare.
My wife disappeared — don’t know where
Some guys pretend they are not aware
Is it good or is it bad
Wife not by your side
The cheeky and naughty will say, ‘hurray!’
Hank
The sign on the gate said “Beware
of the Shih Tzu” – too tiny to scare.
But the son of the house
Had a Pitbull, the louse –
I was bit by the dog of the heir!
There was shit in the woods everywhere;
People thought that it must be a bear.
But the Pope’s out all night,
While the bear, dressed in white,
Never leaves the Pontifical chair.
Dr Spooner was quite unaware
That he needed to speak with great care,
For his tongue would get stuck
When he ordered “Fried Duck”,
Causing diners around him to stare.
While shopping for fantasy wear
Claire’s mind was caught in a snare.
Costly clothes were all lewd
She looked good in the nude.
So the guys better like her bare pair.
She would never buy ready to wear.
In hot embrace they’d easily tear.
Though nude might be crude
She didn’t need mood
And Claire’s dude was ready for bear.
My wife disappeared-don’t know where
She went shopping to buy sexy wear
She got lost in a mall
A cavernous sprawl.
Missing Persons gave up in despair.
A woman and man unaware
of their nakedness hadn’t a care
till a snake in the grass
caught a peek of her ass
and convinced her that they oughta pear.
She was waiting and waiting: “Oh, where
Is the fellow who said he’d be there?”
She shouldn’t have doubted;
He came, and he spouted –
She can’t get him out of her hair.
While showing off new underwear,
I shook it like I didn’t care,
Yes, I am strange,
but I’ll never change,
my ways, not my boxers, I swear.
My guy disappeared- don’t know where.
And the Embassy doesn’t care!
He’s not CIA
He got caught in the fray
A hostage, my guy? Don’t they dare!
While shopping for fantasy wear,
I mused how risque I could dare!
I will have great fun,
And some people stun!
I will show how much can bare!
My break pads have suffered some wear,
they squeak and they squeal in despair.
Feeling the panic
I call the mechanic
who does his repairs with such flair!
My husband is gone, don’t know where,
I stare at his empty armchair.
Not to be mean
but my house is so clean,
next time I will ante his fare!
Her jeans were très chic “tear and wear”;
She’d mindfully messed up her hair.
Forgive my dissension,
But so much attention
For a look that says, “Meh, I don’t care.”
My brake-pads have suffered some wear,
I’m breaking up everything there –
A bit of a break
Is what it would take
To break out new brakes and repair.
My brake-pads have suffered some wear
With linings unbearably bare,
No brakes means bad breaks
With non-stop mistakes –
Collide with a bear, do not dare!
I was shopping for fantasy-wear
for my partner’s posh costume affair,
but the prices were scary,
and since I am hairy,
I opted to dress as a bare.
The boastful old man was aware
That the top of his head was quite bare
“It should be quite plain
That the size of my brain
Means that no room is left for my hair.”
Beware of the March Ides, beware!
The Soothsayer warns us with flair
We must heed his ballad
Or become Caesar salad!
Our romaines bleeding out on the square
Ftatateeta said “Highness, beware –
How the Roman doth ogle and stare!
Caesar’s bald as a coot -“
Cleopatra said, “Shoot!
Caesar’s balled as a stallion down there!”
She certainly knew what to wear
To induce all the locals to stare.
Law-abiders and felons
Admired her melons,
Though one guy exclaimed “What a pear!”
The store clerk for fantasy-wear
Proclaimed he was Superman’s heir.
He wore glasses cum Clark,
Touted Lois’s snark,
But his waist had a tire to spare.
Loved my little humor-break, Mad. Lots going on right now and I needed a laugh.
My wife disappeared—don’t know where.
To be honest, I really don’t care.
I expect them to leave me,
so this doesn’t peeve me.
My dungeon holds many a spare.
Over the rainbow somewhere
Are some ruby-red slippers- one pair
Sought by one wicked witch
Dorothy said, “They’re a bitch.
to walk in- take them, I don’t care!”
But Glinda appeared with her wand
“Are you nuts? You must keep these shoes on!”
“But they kill both my feet
Even though they look neat.”
“That’s too bad, Dorothy, they’re Louboutin!”
The plumber in fantasy wear
As Dolly Parton presented a pair
He backed in quite gorgeous
With a half dozen corsages
And a decollete derriere
My gal disappeared ― don’t know where.
I’ve a nugget of wisdom to share:
With your love, set a goal
Like the one when you bowl
And make sure that you pick up a spare.
While shopping for fantasy wear
A man yelled, Hey, lookie there!
When everyone turned
the store owner he burned
by stuffing a whip you know where.
My wife’s disappeared – don’t know where
I’m in a state of deep despair
She’s left me high and dry
With the washing piled high
And the cupboard’s completely bare
The blood-donor, quite unaware
That Dracula followed her there,
Felt the tiniest pain
In her jugular vein …
Since then, she has no blood to spare.
On the beach in her new swimming-wear,
What was causing the fellows to stare?
She’d forgotten her knickers
Still carried the stickers –
“Special offer! Five dollars the pair.”
A lovely young voter from Ware
Was pursued by a fellow called Blair.
She said to him, “Tony,
I think you’re a phony –
New mandate? You haven’t a prayer.”
“You’ve been warned!” said my boss. “What you wear
When you’re slouching at home, I don’t care.
But at work, you’ll comply!”
So I borrowed a tie,
And I strangled the bastard right there.
She donned sexy fantasy wear
And invited me into her lair.
Now she’s had quite enough;
I’m tossed out, in the buff.
Hey, at least can I have taxi fare?
As a Congressman, I’m well aware
How to fiddle the grant for child-care.
Though my life’s on the skids
And my wife took the kids,
It will pay for that gorgeous au pair.
Jack the Ripper was lingering where
There were girls, not so young or so fair.
He would tell them, “My dear,
You need altering here”,
As he gave them free surgical care.
WHOMOPHONY
When a Time Lord has nothing to wear,
He relies on his natural flair.
What happens if then
He has nothing to When?
Why, it’s more than I think he could bear!
She’s distraught – she has nothing to wear,
For her wardrobe is practically bare.
There are dresses galore,
But she’s worn them before;
As for shoes, not a single new pair.
Cried Alfred, Lord Douglas, “Oh, where
Has my Oscar gone?” “Lying in Père
Lachaise, dead and forgotten
For crimes that were rotten –
The English don’t care for a quare.”
@Brian:
Poor Oscar. Although I suppose he
Could complain that the English were nosy,
The complaint that they filed
(A.K.A. “Boys Gone Wilde”)
Had its origin largely with Bosie.
“The wolves are all ready-to-‘were’,”
Sighed Count Dracula. “How could they scare?
And worst,” he said darkly,
“The vampires are… SPARKLY.
I tell you, it just isn’t fair!”
Un francais lost his wife – don’t know where
And was heard to say “Ou est mon frere ?
I have nothing to chew
Ma famille est perdue
And my old man’s in the folies Bergere
In these days of alternative wear
THere’s no need to be covered in hair
If you’re sexually active
And she finds you attractive
She will press hirsute anywhere
@Will:
But let’s not be hard on young Bosie;
For a while, he and Oscar were cosy.
He was too broke to pay
For a floral bouquet,
But at least he stumped up for a posy.
A woman bought some fantasy wear
Her playmate she planned to ensnare
She got her kicks
Playing dominatrix
Whipping her prey tied up in the chair
Inspired by Konrad’s spare wives in the dungeon:
All women, take note and beware
Of traditions in need of repair:
There’s a hidden trap door
Marked “Fulfillment no more”
In the temple of Devil-may-care.
If you fail to anticipate where
There could possibly be such a snare,
You’ll be chained to a life
Known as “good little wife”
In a tomb rather lacking in air.
Before wedding, make hubby aware
You were not born to polish his lair;
If he can’t do the task,
He’d be wise not to ask —
Well, that is, if he prizes his pair.
Does he launder the garments *you* wear?”
If the answer is “no,” then forswear
Further brief-washing till
Your Alberto or Bill
Makes it clear he will do his fair share.
And please DON’T let that man dictate where
You CAN and cannot grow your hair;
First it’s “Grow it out long”
Then, “You can’t where a thong
Without shaving that nightmare ’down there.’”
Listen, once you become more aware
Of how your time goes, it’ll scare
You right out of your britches,
But fight and we’re bitches —
Tis madness to which we fall heir.
P.S. If I’m starting to wear
On your nerves, kick your lazy-boy chair
Into partial recline
Get your bottle of wine,
Turn the game on, and let that shit blare.
But don’t wonder if wifey will wear
A lace apron (her nether parts bare)
This is her time to WRITE
If she works hard she might
End the plight of the “dungeon-wife spare”!!
Brian,
The pitbull is not really where
I would look for a genuine scare;
After goldens, indeed,
They’re the gentlest breed —
Thanks to humans, most don’t have a prayer.
My mate disappeared, don’t know where
We were planning to go to the fair
But he dislikes a crowd
Can’t stand when its loud
Is he hiding in a secret lair?
These limericks continue to wear
on my wits—it’s so cruel and unfair.
Though my crime was quite awful,
ain’t torture unlawful?
Dear God, throw the switch on this chair!
While shopping for fantasy wear
She came to a halt just to stare
At spike heels so sexy
They caused apoplexy.
“Such weapons I’d buy should I dare.”
@Brian
That’s true, so like Oscar, I’ll pardon him,
And I promise I won’t be too hard on him
(Plus, as Wilde’s story goes, he
Was hard on young Bosie,
And that’s why they summoned the Guard on him).
A good ‘un, Will!
While shopping for fantasy wear
My eyes were deceived by the glare
I found out too late
T’was a bald-headed pate
That I took for a bare derriere
While shopping for fancy knit-ware
All hapless young shoppers BEWARE!
While the colours allure,
Everyone must be sure
That the fibres don’t rub the skin rare.
My entry is here, as part of my April A to Z blog series: Limericks and Whim-ericks – on Nickers and Ink:
Displayed and Dismayed
Thanks, Mad Kane, for another fun limerick prompt!
Or perhaps:
While shopping for exotic knit-ware
All hapless young shoppers, BEWARE!
Though bright colours allure,
Everyone must be sure
That the fibres don’t rub the skin rare.
If you worry at all about where
Your next trip will wind up, don’t you dare
Take a flight on a plane
From Helsinki to Spain.
You might vanish right into Finnair.
The hot couple next door to us to wear
Not a stitch – mother-naked, buff-bare —
Lounging out by their pool.
Having neighbors is cool
When they’re not such a clothes-minded pair.
Pope Francis’s Vatican’s where
There’s excitement and change in the air.
Dare we dream of the day
It’s okay to be gay
And a priest and a nun can come pair?
As an orphan, young Jane is aware
That privation can lead to despair,
So she starts life anew,
Then finds Rochester, who
Turns her into a breath of fresh Eyre.
My boss clutched his side, which was where
The pain was just starting to scare.
I staked my claim fast!
Should it be that he passed
I bagsied his posh swivel chair.
A true story — it was of course just office banter and my former boss is alive to this day. To “bagsie” something is to stake a claim to it.
My dear, dress in ready-to-wear?
One’s clothes are handmade in Mayfair!
Couture that is haute
Not some off-the-peg coat!
(For the canaille, of course—c’est trop chère)
A woman appeared unaware
Of the motive for people to stare
So she strutted and preened
Very proud to be seen
With the grasshopper stuck in her hair
When you’re singing the Anthem, beware!
Choose the pitch that you start on with care.
Even old Francis Scott
Went off-Key when he got
To the line, “And the rocket’s red glare…”
Stars want us to stare so they wear
The sexiest outfits they dare.
But should something slip,
Exposing a “Nip”?
They’re set, as we leer, cheer then SHARE!
On the streets, she strode, unaware
That starkers, she caused folk to stare
Sleep walking, it seems
It wasn’t sweet dreams
But the stuff of her worst nightmare
The brake pads had suffered some wear.
I’d no inkling of aught to cause scare
All at once, was alarmed!
Car and I both unharmed
But no more was that hedge debonair
A poet I know doesn’t care
For the order of which words go where
And this scofflaw may strut
His rebelliousness but
In this contest he hasn’t a prayer
There once was a woman who’d wear
A bouffant full of fake hair
The birds, they were nesting
Babies a resting
Wrapped in her curls with care
The Lady was quite unaware
When everyone stopped to stare
From the restroom she came
And oh what a shame
With her dress tucked in her under ware.
[a true story]
Thanks so much everyone for another fun week of limericks. This Limerick-Off is officially over. And the winner is…
Congratulations to the Limerick of the Week Winner, the Facebook Friends’ Choice Award Winner, and the Honorable Mention Winners: Limerick of the Week 159.
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick Scrap.