Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: HOUND at the end of Line 1 or 2 or 5
It’s Limerick-Off time, once again. And that means I write a limerick, and you write your own, using the same rhyme word. Then you post your limerick as a comment to this post and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.
I hope you’ll join me in writing a limerick using HOUND at the end of Line 1 or Line 2 or Line 5. (Homonyms or homophones are fine.)
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 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my limerick:
An inventor and builder would hound
His staffers to break some new ground.
He found acting quite mean
And venting his spleen
Often led them to breakthroughs profound.
Please feel free to write your own limerick using the same rhyme word 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: Competition Limerick, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Poetry & Prompts, Writing Prompts
“You aren’t anything but a hound
dog” wouldn’t have had the right sound
As a rockin’ blues lyric
Sung by a satyric
Young star whose ascent would astound.
Sherlock Holmes was attacked by the Hound
Of the Baskervilles. One mighty bound,
And he’d ripped out his throat!
Causing Sherlock to gloat:
“Well, it proves that my teeth are still sound.”
In ‘mish’, though he’d pound her and pound,
She just lay there with never a sound,
But when flipped on her front
She would giggle and grunt,
And in ‘doggy’, she bayed like a hound.
My wife paid a gumshoe to hound
Me – she knew I was fooling around.
So we screwed in the sea,
And he still followed me,
But the sap couldn’t swim, so he drowned.
I cursed when my stupid old hound
Went digging for bones in the ground,
For I’d cut up my wife
With a sharp kitchen knife,
And she wasn’t supposed to be found.
Marooned when his ship ran aground,
Crusoe checked out the island and frowned,
For the marks on the shore
Were the prints of a paw,
So “Dog Friday” he now calls the hound.
Nowadays rock and roll songs abound,
But that sound’s not always been around.
It gained traction, no doubt,
When EP belted out,
“Thou art naught but a dog, yea, a hound.”
A guy really hung like a hound,
And loved to flirt and fool around.
He drove women mad,
Of that, he was glad.
His size never ceased to astound.
A wonderful breed is the hound,
Search and Rescue must have him around.
He finds those who are lost,
In rubble, forest, or frost.
His strong sense of smell does astound.
on days that I miss my old hound
I wait for that imminent sound
of neighbors despairing
and cursing and swearing
whenever they step in a mound
It’s fun to experience the sound
When Karaoke Night rolls around.
One dude tries to croon
An old country tune
And gets up and bays like a hound.
She continued to hector and hound;
He recoiled from the unending sound.
Now technology wins;
He just sits there and grins.
New ear buds will keep him around.
When we moved out west, we bought a hound
Three days later, he was no where to be found
He picked up a scent
And off he went
To an open trash bag on Long Island Sound
We searched the yellow pages till we found
A restaurant where we could take our hound
At “Le Steak”
We did a double take
When we noticed he would only eat ground round
When you take your beloved Foxhound
To the dog park on Long Island Sound
He’ll realize the grass
Smells like another dog’s ass
So take him there when he’s uncomfortably “bound”
I advertised in “Lost and Found”
That I was missing my great hound.
Who knows where he went,
And what’s his intent,
Or if he was on the rebound?
If you play fetch with your beloved hound
And you’re tired of going round and round
Buy a tape that mimics thunder
He’ll feel like he’s been blown asunder
You’ll find him later beneath the surface of the ground
My life is not on level ground
Since I lost my dear old hound.
His name is “Marty,”
And he’s a smarty.
My reasons must not have been sound.
I can leap, but maybe not bound.
Did you think that I was a hound?
I may be crazy,
But I’m not lazy.
I’ll show up in the Lost and Found.
He walks with his loyal, old hound
Through the neighborhood; poking around.
Self-appointed he is
To know everyone’s biz;
Our Snoop Dog is here on the ground.
Be it a mutt, a pincher or hound
All are dogs that sure get around
They chase fancy cars
And hang out in bars
Sexist men belong in the pound
I was looking to buy me a hound,
So I stopped at the area pound.
Saw a babe at the counter,
And asked could I mount ‘er—
The bitch put me down on the ground.
My husband calls me a virtual bloodhound
Claims I can smell things even underground
I got so mad one day
That I ran away
To my dear Mama at the New Jersey Dog Pound
A dog stares out the window, looking around
Searching for something that will astound
His primary need
Will be answerer indeed
Finding another canine hound
They had met at The Horse ‘n Hound;
Then spent the night fooling around.
When morning sun shone,
She was there all alone;
Her steed was nowhere to be found.
The fox darted quickly around;
On the chase, a maniacal hound.
They dove under a hive
Where the honey bees thrive
With a crash, then a huge yelping sound.
They own a big loud-barking hound;
But they’re hardly ever around.
Now, upon their return
Is when they will learn
That four-legged turd’s in the pound.
A horny young hot blooded hound,
Would try and mount all that he found.
But a dusty old hive,
With bees still alive?
Hence the moaning and whimpering sound.
The professor was oft to be found
At the bar of the old “Fox and hound”
Where the bar-maid was pretty
Quite buxom and witty
And readily had him de-gowned.
My dog is a loving Bassett Hound
Who we found at a lush and lovely campground
He was cryin’ all the time
And full of dirt and grime
But he wagged his tail when we were all home bound
Mad:
Limerick #23 is supposed to be
His primary need
Will be ANSWERED indeed
sorry
We just love our bushy new hound
So glad we were passing the pound
He ain’t never caught no rabbit
And we named him Sebastian Cabot
A great companion, we sure have found
For Cleveland, they have a Dawg Pound;
The Black Hole is where Raiders abound.
In the Patriot’s lair,
So unjust and unfair
Is the NFL’s snooping bloodhound.
So searching for blood was the hound,
Who was keeping his nose to the ground.
But he raised it, we’d guess,
Redefining success.
Was a bitch’s rear end that he found.
That crazy old dog went around
And around, and he howled like a hound.
Every day without fail
He went out chasing tail –
It was only his own that he found.
I thought I had a wonderful hound
One that I could “show around”
But he ain’t no friend of mine
Cause he bit me where the sun don’t shine
So I had to return him back to the pound
My obstetrician looked at my hound
She was getting fat and making a groaning sound
A bison frise
Was having his way
Next week we go for the ultrasound
My friends repeatedly hound
Me to write something profound
I enjoy creating
But I’d rather be dating
And just have fun fooling around
Her hubby had drifted around
The whole time like a lecherous hound.
When they got home that night,
As she turned out the light,
The sofa’s where he could be found.
Big Bubba can often be found
At a bar called The Animal Pound.
He’ll sit and stare
At a tight derriere
And bellow and bay like a hound.
She’d hound and she’d hound and she’d hound,
And he’d take it and not make a sound.
But one day he just snapped,
And did something apt.
She’s vanished and won’t soon be found.
not a duplicate
The obstetrician examined my hound
She was fat and getting round
A Bison Frise
Was having his way
Next week it’s ultrasound
not a duplicate
My dog is a Bassett Hound
Who we found at a lovely campground
He was “cryin’ all the time”
And full of grit and grime
But he wagged his tail when we were all home bound
That dog was the meanest around;
Just as nasty as can be found.
He chased all the cars
And howled at the stars;
One son-of-a-bitch of a hound.
We heard shrieking from an annoying hound
Where the hell is it creeping around?
Ann said “you just can’t win
I recognize my ex husband Quinn
His snoring is an infuriating sound”
He spent his day snooping around;
The results were quite often renowned.
His success was sublime
In the annals of crime;
For he was a Baskerville Hound.
Some test for health my Papa had found,
The preliminary meds made his stomach frown,
To the restroom he vomitted and flushed it all down
Only to discover without his dentures
he was no cuter than a toothless hound.
I once had a Bassett Hound
Who misbehaved with others around
He would tear your clothes
And bite your toes
So I gave him to my “ex” on Egg Harbor Sound
Trying for a better meter
I once had a Bassett Hound
Who misbehaved with others around
He would tear your clothes
And bite your nose
So I gave him to my “ex” on “The Sound”
not a duplicate
I thought I had a wonderful hound
One that I could “show around”
But he “ain’t no friend of mine”
Cause he bit me where the sun don’t shine
So I returned him to the local dog pound
My 12-year old took his hound
To impress girls at the local campground
His pubescent finesss
Was unlikely to yield a “yes”
From his question, “Want to fool around?”
On street corners, he’d hang around
And look like a flea-bitten hound.
But that was before
He went to the store
With that lottery ticket he found.
Ol’ Jess said he wanted a hound,
And went to the neighborhood pound.
He returned with a smile
As he held all the while
The cute little kitten he found.
They bought an old bus from Greyhound,
And soon had their rig highway-bound.
The journey is such,
They like it so much;
Who knows when they’ll come back around?
Madeleine, your dedication to limericks has no equal and makes me smile twice, once for your words and then for your enthusiasm.
there once was a dog, a howl of a hound
who buried his bones too deep in the ground
he lamented his loss
you might find it too gross
cause at the churchyard he dug up the mounds
Elvis howled about a flea-bitten Hound,
but sadly never visited the Dog Pound
to check out the actual mutts,
to pet them & sniff their butts;
mostly it was success he found.
Matilda bought for a pound
a most spectacular hound,
he had a particular flair
to point his bum in the air,
but his nose was always close to the ground.
Nostalgic Limerick
Who would buy a RECORD about a hound?
I would; then I danced all around
In 1957
When life was simply heaven
Elvis sang the best songs anyone ever found!
Lots of fun this and reading the responses. I am not talented as a limerick writer but I do so enjoy these responses that kapow off your wonderful original.
A lady cop’s man was a hound,
And she caught him out screwing around.
He had done her a wrong,
Misdirecting his schlong;
He’s lucky it’s not in Impound.
Now..this was great fun!!
My conscience continues to hound
Me to write a third entry. I’m bound
To The Great Anapest,
So now on with my quest.
The result is right here to be found.
Our neighbor’s a skirt-chasing hound;
The women are always around.
We see them in bunches;
Our favorite hunch is
It’s Hugh Hefner’s training compound.
1960’s Flashback
Do not recapitulate, pester, or hound
I have located the ring you said couldn’t be found
It was in the backseat
Of the Fiat Petite
It must have fallen off when we were messing around
The best cartoon animals we found
Were old ones, like Huckleberry Hound.
There was Yogi, Boo-Boo,
Scooby-Doo too;
And Mr. Peabody, wise and profound.
A seamstress, whose work was renowned
For a pattern called tooth of the hound,
Used a man she’d apprenticed–
An unscrupulous dentist–
To help her in prowling the pound.
They claimed the incisors they found
Were discovered by chance on the ground
‘Til betrayed by a growl
And a horrible howl,
A toothless cur’s threatening sound.
Change of tense 1960’s Flashback
Do not recapitulate, pester, or hound
I have located the ring you said couldn’t be found
It was in the back seat
Of the Fiat Petite
It probably fell off when we were messing around
A cold.. easy night for blood of hound
A sniff.. a wait.. the prey awaits..
The time for chase is coming soon..
Yes.. the jack rabbit darts away..
But hound too slow.. in bowl of food..:)
The preacher so often did hound
His flock over fooling around.
But Miss Amy revealed
He wasn’t quite healed
In the compromised state they were found.
Leroy’s a lascivious hound
Who built a man-cave underground.
His BFFs know
They’ll get a good show
With the pole-dancing girlfriend he found.
If you’re fortunate enough to own a hound
You’ll notice his senses will amazingly astound
They work so well
He can even smell
The horses on a merry-go-round
My new sofa’s design is the tooth of a hound
I must say it is indubitably well-found
When Aunt Flo
Got up to go
She had a bite on her corpulent fanny mound
Mrs. Hop at the fair was renowned
For her show jumping 16-hand hound.
He could jump to the skies
So he won every prize:
Now requests for his puppies abound.
Somebody was waiting around
for a train when some guy (the old hound)
tried to give (with his girl)
exhibitionism a whirl
Now the cops won’t rest till he’s found.
Gawker
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 and the Honorable Mention Winners: Limerick of the Week 214.
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Roots