Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: JUNE or JEJUNE 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 either “JUNE” or “JEJUNE” 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:
Pooh-poohing the food as “jejune,”
She hurled her saloon menu, strewn
With fare labeled “fried.”
“What, no salad?” she cried.
So they tossed her — a palpable boon.
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
A menage à trois started at noon
The lone man got surprised fairly soon
With all three going strong
He thought something was wrong
When May didn’t come before June.
When he’d walk in from work, he’d call June
Dressed in pearls and her apron, they’d’ spoon’
When her batter he’d lick
She’d get lightheaded quick
But when Ward asked for Beaver, she’d swoon.
I love a girl, May, makes me swoon
My friends think I must be a loon
They say even her name
Is boring and lame
I deny that my May is jejune.
I was dating three sisters named Boone;
Young April was cold: “It’s too soon”,
And May, though quite hot,
Told me “No, you may not”.
My fulfillment was coming in June.
The hooker was young and jejune,
And the size of his dick made her swoon.
“I can blow a guy’s flute
Till he’s ready to shoot,
But I didn’t expect a bassoon.”
His political views are jejune,
And his hair makes him look a buffoon.
If the Donald’s elected,
Disaster’s expected –
They might as well choose a baboon.
I would hump in a hot-air balloon
She agreed, but she said “It’s too soon
We should put it on hold
It remains much too cold”
That’s when April said “Maybe in June.”
The timing is quite opportune
For an off-color rhyme that’s jejune
A short penis joke will
Always get a cheap thrill
But the verse, like my dick, ends too soon.
The restaurant meal was jejune
And was coloured a brownish maroon.
But the chef said “Don’t panic,
It’s fully organic –
Raw tofu with unpitted prune.”
The werewolf would howl at the moon
When it shone at its brightest in June,
Then he’d sharpen his fangs
And assuage hunger pangs;
“Snack attack” was his favorite tune.
— alternative last line:
“You’re my meat” was his favorite tune.
(Note:
“Snack Attack” is a song by Godley & Crème
“You’re My Meat” is a song by Joe Jackson)
How lovely the sweet month of June
With flowers to make your heart swoon
But bloomed way ahead
Most roses are dead
They just reached their apex too soon.
There once was a hooker named June
Who also played a mean bassoon.
And when she blowed
Guy and music flowed
To both she was always in tune.
On a fine Sunday morning in June
I met with a silly buffoon
Who simply by chance
Got to drop down his pants
As he showed me a very full moon.
Madeleine, I’ve changed the last line of my first piece above:
I was dating three sisters named Boone;
Young April was cold: “It’s too soon”,
And May, though quite hot,
Told me “No, you may not”,
But the good times were coming in June.
Here’s a word that would seem opportune:
The Persian for ‘hottie’ is ‘joon’.
Now that Persia’s Iran
With a nuclear plan,
They will have their own ‘hottie’ quite soon.
When it got to the first week in June,
Irving wished to propose to Miss June
With his nerves in a clamor,
He started to stammer:
The best he could do was J-June.
I had lunched at a cheap ‘greasy spoon’,
And the fodder was frankly jejune.
Rancid oil, rotten eggs,
Burgers crawling on legs …
I threw up for the whole afternoon.
A girl once remarked, ‘That’s jejune!’
On hearing a popular tune;
When asked angrily why,
Reply: ‘F-for such sky,
M-must have been; May is too soon!’
Claude Debussy composed a nice tune
Which means to us “Light of the Moon”
I played it when young
On piano (not sung)
And to me “Clair de lune”‘s not jejune
A scribe and his editor, June,
Did the nasty one fine afternoon.
She had gotten quite pissed
With the deadlines he’d missed;
But this ONE time, he finished too soon.
She delivered her baby in June,
Six months past the wedding–too soon–
The result of some merriment
And condom experiment.
‘Twas only a trial balloon.
Fleming Flailings
A South Belgian man, a Walloon,
Gets bar-stomped so much, he’s a poltroon
When invited outside
Last December, he cried,
“May I wait until 31 June?”
From Phyllis Sterling Smith:
I’ll just have to use the rhyme “June”.
With “jejune” I am sort of a loon.
It’s a word that I never,
No not ever, EVER,
Have used in a verse or a tune.
Phyllis Sterling Smith sends this:
We jump in the water in June.
It’s summer, not really too soon,
But the water’s so cool
(At least in this pool)
That I wish I had waited ’til noon.
I’m shagging a young picaroon
who loves to show off his harpoon.
He’s too quick with the trigger
and is lacking in vigor,
but he arrrs when I whisper “jejune.”
My buddy fixed me up with June
He said I’ll totally swoon
She was bustin’ out all over
Like the white cliffs of Dover
This chick sent me to the moon
The old songs always included “moon”
Because it logically rhymed with “swoon”
Folks did the cha cha
To Frank Sinatra
And their naivete was indeed “je june”
At a wedding reception last June,
The best man tried singing a tune.
The song was a bust,
But the bride really cussed
When he finished it up with a moon.
Oh, how Sinatra would croon
To ensure the girls would swoon
But one got carried away
And fainted the opposite way
No wonder her name was Je June
My date’s name was Bethune
The lady made me crackle and swoon
But her vision wasn’t clear
So she shed a sorrowful tear
When we kissed at the silvery moon
CORRECTION!
My lovely date’s name was JUNE
The lady made me crackle and swoon
But her vision wasn’t clear
So she shed a sorrowful tear
When we kissed BY the silvery moon
A lounge singer – Benny LaJune
Would tipple and then start to croon.
He’d warble along
‘Till his show-ending song:
“By the Light of the Slivery Moon”.
He’s only been in it since June;
For a lackluster group – what a boon.
With bravado and cash,
He’s made such a big splash;
Bobby Jindal – for whom they all swoon.
(8 vs. 13 weeks)
Air Force boot camp gets over so soon
That marines think all airmen would swoon
And would greatly embarrass
If on island “Parris”
So Lackland they call “Camp Jejune.”
There’s nothing I find more jejune
Than that puerile horny cartoon
That gets stuck on “rewind”
In the av’rage male mind:
Is it coming to your theater soon?
How to know if your noodle’s afflicted:
Are you both porn and cliché addicted?
Do you make your flag soar
With a fantasy “whore”
Whose IQ — but of course –is restricted?
Rise UP above fear, boys, engage
With a woman who’s not in a cage
If your willy feels silly
Like boinking aunt Millie
Count hoes till you get through this stage.
What are Ju-de-o-Christian inspired
Aids for men adolescently wired?
Thats right: whores – cuz your mum
Don’t know jack about cum…
Shhh… all white men were magic’lly sired.
Johanna Richmond –
You may think that I’m rather jejune,
But my yard finds the hoes quite a boon.
When I turn on the hoes,
Here she comes! There she blows!
And the torrent is like a monsoon.
With my hoes on the beds, how it flows!
Now I’m spraying my favorite, Rose.
“That’s obscene!” What d’you mean?
Oh, hang on, I’ve just seen
A few typos – I meant to write “hose”.
(P.S. For anyone who didn’t know, “yard” in Shakespeare’s time was also a euphemism for … yeah, you got it.)
Kisses so sweet under golden moon
Night sounds behind us that softly croon
From the moment we met
My heart can’t forget
Shimmering moments of an evening in June
In a caravan down by the dune
With atmosphere very jejune,
She said “You’re in danger,
There is a dark stranger
Whose actions will lead to your rune”.
A limerick about you-know-who
He’s a loon, a baboon, a buffoon.
Yet his voters are over the moon.
He’s an ass, second class,
Outrageous and crass.
Will he be in the running next June?
Horny John fantasized about June
Couldn’t wait to get in her sweet poon
He finally got some
But like so much flotsam
He found it to be just jejune.
(A Cash discount?)
The two honeybees wed in mid-June.
The reception was inopportune
For the groom to drop pants.
It conveyed much romance,
And began what was called “honeymoon.”
Played charades with my friend Witherspoon.
What he did people said was jejune:
Turned around, dropped his pants.
I could tell at a glance
That the song was Shine On, Harvest Moon.
Only one? Boon, coon, dune, goon, hewn, June
Or try loon, moon, noon, prune, rune, spoon, tune
Then cocoon and typhoon
Afternoon, picayune
Need four syllables? Contrabassoon.
I asked my sweetie, Bethune
The meaning of the word jejune
“It’s as easy as pie:
It’s the month before jeJuly”
That gal always makes me swoon
My dearest friend Bethune
Goes to Florida every June
At the airport I spot her
She’s the one with the white fur
And positively looks like a prune
In Los anglels we kissed by the moon
That gal made me crackle and swoon
I begged for “all the way”
She said, ” You mean Bombay?”
Her name was June Jejune
A beauty caused me to swoon
And envision a carnal commune.
But when we did speak
She lost her mystique.
Dear April may be jejune.
We married in the month of June
Under the dazzling luminescent moon
When I said “I do”
My water broke through
The roses we arranged at noon
At my lounge last month in June
I hired so-called “Mr Croon”
When he stared singing
Everyone’s ears started ringing
He sounded like a cacophonous buffoon
Everyone loves the month of June
They love the sun in the afternoon
But when you’re sneezing
And always wheezing
You’re forever singing to a different tune
CORRECTION
We married in the month of June
Under the dazzling luminescent moon
When I said, “I do”
My water broke right through
The lovely roses we arranged at noon
Mad: I apologize for one syllable that does not belong:
“You’re forever singing a different tune.”
I took out the word: TO
At “March, April, and June”
An ad agency in Cancun
I had an idea for a kosher pig
flying around and doing a jig
It went over like a lead balloon
In a penthouse suite down in Cancun
Lives a slovenly mobster each June.
All you tourists should know
That the world down below
Is his 24/7 spittoon.
When wooing a woman called June
Don’t say that her name sounds like Moon
As that one’s been done
And she’ll think you’re more fun
If you tell her she rhymes with Balloon.
Caterpillars go in their cocoon
They’re emerging, no longer jejune
But I just do not know
How it works, can you show
How the crawlers are flying so soon?
A beauty had caused me to swoon
And envision a carnal commune.
But when we did speak
She lost her mystique.
Dear April may just be jejune.
correct # of syllables:
We married in the month of June
Under the dazzling luminescent moon
When I said “I do”
My water broke through
The roses we arranged at noon
No one I know says “jejune”
So on a carefree afternoon
I asked some professors
To take a few guessers
They said it’s a springtime typhoon
Go ahead, Tin Pan Alley, and croon
A tune in which “moon” rhymes with “June”.
Sing of stealing a kiss
From a lissome young miss —
Just don’t sing it to me. I’m immune.
As a candidate, Trump is a goon.
He’s ignorant, boorish, jejune,
A total disgrace…
And he’s leading the race
(I think I’ll go live on the Moon).
Most Lit critics sing the same tune:
They call science fiction jejune.
But they’re way off the mark
About Niven and Clarke,
And Frank Herbert sure knows what he’s Dune.
If you go to the shore from mid-June
‘Til September, and walk on the dune
In the dark of the night,
You should carry a light
To alert all the young people scrune.
(Maybe ” screw’n’ ” would be clearer, but I like “scrune”.)
Johnny Cash loved his second wife, June
And it seems they were always in tune.
In the film “Walk The Line”
They’re portrayed doing fine
By J. Phoenix and R. WitherSpoon.
I really don’t wish to lampoon
The plight of that woman named June
But she gets in a huff
If you run out of puff
And declares your balloon jest jejune.
I went home with a woman named June
All around the room clothing was strewn
But the sex, it was brief
And it caused her much grief
As I came, so she went: much too soon.
I kissed my “Internet” date in June
Under the luminescent moon
Her breath was so bad
I fainted and had
A case of “garlic monsoon”
My husband says we don’t “spoon”
He calls me a boring jejune
I said, “Remember
“when we were married in December”
I told you, “once in a blue moon”
My “Internet” date started to croon
It was the magical month of June
When he began to trill
I got a terrifying chill
He sounded just like a raccoon
The monthly-named girls were a boon
To the lech, “I will sure do it soon
In April. I say
Then I’ll do it in May,
And, of course, I will do in June.”
The debate will be on us quite soon,
And we should all get ready to moon.
Our best target there
Has orange flowing hair.
The best word to describe him – jejune.
Summertime comes up in June
And that’s when I leave my cocoon
I try to remember
Come back in September
And you tell me, “Why back so soon?”
I looked up the new word, ‘jejune’
Its meaning I did not attune
‘Simplistic; naïve;
Not hard to deceive’
I feel like a gullible goon.
On a lovely warm May afternoon
I went to the local saloon
Played poker and drank
My bank account shrank
‘Cause I didn’t go home until June.
A well-endowed bride, of course, June
Busted out quite all over, and soon
The carousel stopped.
The groom’s jaw, it dropped,
And the honeymoon seemed opportune.
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 224.
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Roe or Thoreau or Row.