Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: CHORD or CORD or CORED or ACCORD at the end of any one line
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(s) as a comment to this post and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.
I hope you’ll join me in writing limericks using CHORD or CORD or CORED or ACCORD at the end of any one line. (Homonyms or homophones are fine.)
The best submission will be crowned Limerick-Off Award Winner. (Here’s last week’s Limerick-Off Award Winner.)
Additionally, you may write themed limericks related to TREES, using any rhyme word. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best TREE-related limerick.
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 winners on Sunday, January 20, 2019, right before I post the next Limerick-Off. So that gives you two full weeks to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday, January 19, 2019 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my limerick:
A poet, quite broke, who felt stuck
Had a muse who was running amok.
So he got a large board
And some thick, heavy cord,
Then wrote: “Terrible Verse for a Buck.”
Please feel free to enter my Limerick-Off by posting your limerick(s) 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, Money & Finance Humor, Poetry & Prompts, Poetry Humor, Writing Prompts
Even though you might feel a nice breeze
You should never park under the trees
Cuz when you return
You’ll undoubtedly learn
That the birds have done more than just sneeze
The Messiah, with walking was bored
Bought a Honda, instead of a Ford
He won’t speak, near or far
Of his shiny new car
“I did not speak of my own Accord.”
– John 12:49.
An lnsane British leader roared
Let’s have for a change great accord
But, the jackals laughed
Ha, ha, don’t be daft
And. the Wolfpack exclaimed – Dear Lord
Now, the Lord sat in Heaven abhorred
Preparing a very stout cord
To whiplash the arses
Of the rail roaded masses
Futile, he said, but, I’m bored.
When partying with hens itʼll make much more sense to make some plans to leave early
When the ‘bride to beʼ hopes heʼs built like a tree and she thinks this fireman’s burly
Then he whips off a thong
Revealing his dong
That’s more like a pink curly-wurly
It’s true I could barely afford
Piano lessons for Susie and Ward
So I stole cash for years
And at last it appears
That my kids can play one lousy chord
By far, the most disgusting creatures I have ever seen (truth)
Every 17 years in the breeze
The cicadas sing songs in our trees
OH GOD! They are VILE!
Makes you think all the while
That you’d rather be bitten by bees.
He thought that his faux pas was minor.
Then he saw all her clothes were designer.
All the hints he ignored,
He sure struck the wrong chord,
When he took her to eat at a diner.
English Lit: 101
Quasimodo’s life surely was hell
In the church tower so he did dwell
“Does this book strike a chord?”
“Michael, are you SO BORED!!”
“Sorry, “Teach” but it does ring a bell”
Street Corner Singing, circa 1955 (or so)…Brooklyn, N.Y.
We sang “Mama Mia” with glee
People called us “The Bensonhurst Three”
Just made the folks smile
We had a great style:
Known as”one- an a two- an a tree”
correction: Line 5 of a previous limerick: disgusting cicadas
Every 17 years in the breeze
The cicadas sing songs in our trees
OH GOD! THEY’RE SO VILE!
Makes you think all the while
That you’d rather be stung by some bees.
“Would our guests,” said Queen Liz, “be inclined
To nip orf to the tow’r, when we’ve dined?”
Oh, poor queen! What a shock!
All the jew’ls are in hock.
And did anyone ask, “Will she mind?”
Sorry. Pilot Error!
“Worked and saved a whole year to afford;
Now I’m here and she’s knotting the cord.
Will I thrill to the lash –
Having spent all this cash?
Oh, dear! No! Disappointment – I’m bored.”
I’m as edgy as one girl can be!
My hormones need fixing, you see
There is only one way
I can feel calm today
Excuse me. I must hug a tree
When Donald Trump rants on discord,
for him I have only ‘dis chord
to play on a fiddle
that’s so very little
it’s already broke! Now I’m bored…
“With Respect To Joyce Kilmer”
I’ve seen metal that’s also a knee
And cards that are also a key
But I really must say
There is just no damn way
That a poem is also a tree.
My grandson was totally floored
When I told him this story, he roared!
“No one felt all alone
Cuz we all shared a phone
Which was fixed to the wall by a cord”
Anyone remember Schnozzle?
He had fans that were home and abroad
Durante sang songs we applaud
But it’s really ironic
The most un-harmonic
Was the one where he found the lost chord
The hurricane right by the sea
Surely frightened dear “wifey” and me!
Yet right in our house
My creative sweet spouse
Set the table smack down on a tree
Betty Smith was as smart as can be
And a wonderful writer was she!
Yet it made me feel blue
Cuz Ms. Smith really knew
That Brooklyn had more than one tree
Previous limerick with a change in Line 5 (better?)
Betty Smith was as smart as can be
And a wonderful writer was she
Yet it made me feel blue
Cuz Ms. Smith really knew
That in Brooklyn there’s more than one tree
The Capone’s were as sweet as can be!
Mama’s pasta was all gluten-free
But then there was Al
From the “Goombah Corral”
Who just rotted that family tree.”
Mad: line 5 of above limerick: instead of “And just rotted that family tree”
should be: “Who just rotted that family tree”
Could you change that for me?
Thank you, Lisi
*********
Done.
A huge evergreen offered shade;
With a blanket, their spot was arrayed.
Having done more than spoon,
They woke up the raccoon;
Whose point with a pine cone was made.
In the 50’s Dad got an award
(His intelligence, never ignored)
Cuz all on his own!
He upgraded our phone!
By getting a much longer cord.
When telephones needed a cord
The “other lines” weren’t ignored
We “shhhh” listen in
And hear all about “sin”
Oh Boy, we kids never were bored!
Mad: obvious mistake in above limerick, line 3
“We “shhh” listen in” should of course be “We’d “shhh” listen in”
Could you change that for me?
Thank you, Lisi
The guitar students seemed to be bored,
Till from teacher’s guitar music poured
That the kids understood.
So I guess that you could
Say guitarist’s new song struck a chord.
Many scientists have the belief
That much carbon in air causes grief.
Lots of people agree
To plant many a tree,
With the goal of providing re-leaf.
We glanced at a tree in the park
It was grand, yet attractively stark!
“It’s a dogwood” said Joe
“And here’s how I know”
“I looked at its beautiful bark”
The cost of their service had soared;
So now I am cutting the cord.
We can still watch TV,
Once I do it for free
By the shed where the woodpile is stored.
A sky-diving champion, Claude
Found danger was making him bored
He felt such a klutz
And suffered crushed nuts
When late in pulling his cord
When driving, he always expects
To answer an incoming text.
His focus on keys
Could end up in the trees;
While The Grim Reaper plays “Thank U, Next.”
Geometrically speaking, a chord
Is a line with two points on the bord’.
From Latin for ‘Bowstring’,
A useful to know thing,
And so closely related to cord.
Variations on a theme.
Tried researching your family tree?
There are shocks in store, just wait and see.
Great Grandpa was an earl,
But great Grandma, a churl,
Which means you are related to me.
If researching your family tree,
Steel yourself for some shocks; you will see.
Quite convinced you are royal?
Well you aren’t! You’re a boil
On the backside of peasants like me.
Improved – a bit.
Geometrically speaking, a chord
Is a line with two points on the bord’.
From Latin for ‘Bowstring’,
A useful to know thing,
And thus, closely related to cord.
I’m happy now.
Geometrically speaking, a chord
Is a line with two points on the bord’.
From the Latin for ‘Bowstring’ –
A useful to know thing –
And closely related to cord.
At times when I’m feeling just crappy
It makes my spouse very unhappy!
So he kisses my feet
And calls me “sweet sweet”
Cuz just like a tree, he’s real sappy.
In the 50’s kids never were bored
New adventures were fully explored:
Dipping braids into ink
Saving heads made to shrink
And chewin’ that telephone cord.
I’ve discovered I’m now in accord
With a viewpoint I’ve always deplored.
I am shocked! What has changed?
Am I sick or deranged?
No, it’s worse – I got lazy and bored.
In Response To Lisi.
When my spouse let’s me know she’s unhappy,
I’m on notice to do something, snappy.
I’ll kiss feet – for a start –
Then work up to the part
Which when tickled, makes all spouses sappy.
Like the first version better, but this is the correct syllable count.
When spouse lets me know she’s unhappy,
I’m driven to do something, snappy.
I’ll kiss feet – for a start –
Then work up to the part
Which tickled, makes all spouses sappy.
“I was born with the heart of an oak”,
Said the Donald. “Believe me, no joke!”
His heart may be good,
But his brain’s solid wood,
Which is why the whole country is broke.
The guitarist kept strumming a chord,
The same one. People got very bored,
But his lessons had stopped
At C major; he’d dropped
All the others he couldn’t afford.
“Paint Your Wagon” 1969
Just love Alan Lerner, but PLEASE!
Why would someone with such expertise
Get totally boozed
Not to mention confused
And stand around talking to trees?
His offspring, it’s easy to see,
Are as crooked as President T,
Grabbing ill-gotten loot,
Which just shows that the fruit
Never falls very far from the tree.
(Replaces preceding limerick – first line changed)
His offspring, I’m sure you’ll agree,
Are as crooked as President T,
Grabbing ill-gotten loot –
Which just shows that the fruit
Never falls very far from the tree.
The scientists gathered around
To resolve something very profound:
A tree did a flop
Followed by a kerplop
And none of them heard a damn sound.
fixing mistakes in above limerick
The scientists gathered around
To resolve something very profound:
A tree did a flop
And then went kerplop
(Not one of them heard a damn sound)
Said Trump to the hooker, “You’ll see
That my wood is the size of a tree!”
But when he was nude,
She said “Don’t think me rude –
It looks more like a bonsai to me.”
An aging porn actor with glee:
“Ole Deadwood now stands like a tree!
With help from this pill,
There’s a role I can fill
In ‘Debbie Does A.A.R.P’… “
(Correction: bonsai)
**********
Fixed
Take guitar and you’ll never be bored!
Come here Susie and try this neat chord
“What are you NUTS?
Or just a real PUTZ?
A new manicure I can’t AFFORD!”
A neighbour planted sequoia
On his boundary just to annoy her
Giant Redwoods you see
Are the largest of tree
And now he’s just heard from her lawyer
Because Mad’s so strict.
Geometrically speaking, a chord
Is a line with two points on the bord’.
From the Latin for ‘Bowstring’ –
A useful to know thing –
It rhymes, very neatly, with sward.
I would never admit that I snored,
So, my wife made recordings – I’m floored!
Beyond doubt, she was right,
But the future is bright –
We’ve discovered a new major chord.
Shook a branch on my family tree;
What dropped out cleared up one mystery.
Way, way back in the mists,
Before writers made lists,
They crossed two kinds of apes to get me.
An admittedly, drastic, response to Brian Allgar’s excellent limerick, included for clarity.
His offspring, I’m sure you’ll agree,
Are as crooked as President T,
Grabbing ill-gotten loot –
Which just shows that the fruit
Never falls very far from the tree.
“It’s a fact that some trees is just weeds;
When they isn’t consumin’, they breeds.
Cull ‘em all, branch and root –
Smother every off-shoot –
An’ be sure to pick up all the seeds.”
My thanks to Dave Johnson for the inspiration for this one.
Almost all men like toying with wood;
By and large, wives agree, this is good.
Keep the int’rest alive,
If you need to, revive;
It is better for all that it stood.
Hmmm! Quite a few variations occur, but I shall limit myself, for your sakes, to this one. Can’t think why I didn’t see it the first time.
Almost all men like working with wood;
By and large, wives agree, this is good.
Keep the int’rest alive,
If you need to, revive;
It is better for all that it stood.
If it’s true we evolved from the apes –
Though, quite how we achieved this, escapes –
Why can’t we, if you please,
Swing with ease through the trees,
Without getting ourselves into scrapes?
The baby was on the tree top
It was rockin’ and rockin’ non stop!
But then the bough broke
And it sure was no joke
When that little bambino went “plop”
If the man in your life plays with wood,
And you’re not really sure that if should,
Gain respect, take a stand;
Say that you’ll lend a hand;
Doing things as a couple is good.
As a man, enjoy working with wood,
And your wife will agree, this is good;
Should performance rates sag,
Or your interest flag,
Do not ask, “Should I bother?” You should!
This corrects a couple of errors.
If the man in your life plays with wood,
And you aren’t really sure that he should,
Gain respect, take a stand;
Say that you’ll lend a hand;
Doing things as a couple is good.
Today, I’m divorced. (Thank The Lord!)
My ex hubby who I once adored:
Said, “Let’s paint it red”
I screamed, “NO!” Blue instead!
The grounds were “Zilch Color Accord”
My in-laws are coming, OH LORD!
They’re dumb and they make me so BORED!
When they get here today
I’ll just vacuum away
And make sure that they trip on the cord.
The pirates, a larcenous horde,
Took over while storming aboard.
A boat crew of nine
Bound together with twine
Held fast; they were all in a cord.
DIY or WDIT? Wood is so versatile, don’t you think?
So, your man likes to work with his wood,
And you want to join in – well, you should.
Get a grip! Take a stand!
Tell him, “I’ll lend a hand.”
Couples should work together – that’s good!
So, your man likes to play with his wood,
And you want to join in – well, you should.
Get a grip! Take a stand!
Tell him, “I’ll lend a hand.”
Couples should play together – that’s good!
Bible Class: The TRUE Story!
And so on the Earth with no shame
Came Adam who God did proclaim
From a tree he ate fruit
Which then caused him to toot
And he told God that Eve was to blame.
Oops! Mad – please change “hoard” to “horde”
in line 1 of my post above.
Thanks! Dave
*****
Done.
The Bonsai are very small trees
They’re SACRED and lovely, so please
Take very good care
And thus you will share
This treasure of all Japanese
Those trees that were blocking his view
Are suddenly lying askew.
Officials resist
As he tries to insist
The wind just selectively blew.
There was poop on my friend Jenny Lee!
A disgusting sight that I did see!
I asked, “Jen! what went wrong?”
And she sang a sweet song:
“There’s a par-tri-ij in your pear tree”
correction? line 5
There was poop on my friend Jenny Lee
A disgusting sight that I did see
I asked, Jen! What went wrong?”
And she sang a sweet song:
“There’s a par-tri-idge in your pear tree.
For tapeworms, herpes and piles
Slippery elm bark is better by miles
Sore throat and colic
This cure’s hyperbolic
Is provoking some cynical smiles
I knew a composer who scored
An opera most people ignored
‘Bout an Army man struck
By a half-track and truck.
A-flat major’s its dominant chord.
He thought that his dinghy was moored
And nothing appeared untoward
So he went on his way
For the rest of the day
But some scoundrel in spite cut the cord.
The captain had called “all aboard”
And the guitarist struck up a chord
They danced and they swam
But on shore I still am
T’was a cruise that I couldn’t afford.
I do think that I’ll never see
A poem so nice as a tree
Providing good shade
In Heaven they’re made
And useful to dogs when they pee.
A marvellous tree, the Acacia
The palest of leaves and they’re lacier
But us giraffes, we scorns
Those bloody great thorns
So easy to reach and much tastier!
Phil Harris went down on one knee
To the woodman, was making this plea
“Save my Elm cos’ the wife
Is causing me strife,
Just leave my route open to flee”!
Inspired by Lisi’s Bible Class.
It the vegans were given their way,
We’d eat veg, fruit and pulses all day.
But from one piece of fruit
Came all troubles. Compute?
That’s why vegans must never hold sway.
Sorry! That should, of course, be ‘If’.
If the vegans were given their way,
We’d eat veg, fruit and pulses all day.
But from one piece of fruit
Came all troubles. Compute?
That’s why vegans must never hold sway.
It’s time we Americans take
Active steps so our forests don’t bake.
Finland takes the right tack
With a spirit we lack.
Saddle up, ev’ryone! Grab a rake!
I checked on my own family tree
Finding who was related to me
Well I come from good stock
But it came as a shock
That Dad’s branch didn’t want me to be
It was something I could not foresee!
I was just a bit drunk, (oh dear me!)
There were nuts all around
On the lawn and the ground
I backed into our family tree.
Genealogists happen to be
Looking into a family tree.
Gynecologists, though,
As I think you should know,
Look at family bush, don’t you see.
My doggie just loves to go pee
In the back, so that no one will see
But since he met Daisy
His hormones went crazy
And those love birds now share the same tree.
Tense correction of above limerick:
My doggie just loved to go pee
In the back, so that no one would see
But since he met Daisy
His hormones went crazy
And those love birds now share the same tree.
People say he was clumsy, the stork
And that’s why I look like a dork
This I’m not conceding
I blame the inbreeding
My family tree does not fork.
Let fruitarians dictate our course,
Spend the rest of our days in remorse.
We’ll look younger, they say,
But who cares? There’s no way
I will ever subscribe or endorse.
Let fruitarians once have their way
And we’ll live out our lives in dismay.
Never, never forget,
That one bite was what set
All the woes of the world underway.
An arboreal resident, I –
So conveniently close to the sky.
From my nest, I can flit,
Find a perch, dump my shit,
And away ‘fore the vic’ wipes his eye.
If the will of the vegans gains sway,
We’ll eat veg’, fruit and pulses all day.
Natural gases, unchecked,
Will see planet Earth, wrecked;
We must keep such subversives at bay.
We don’t dare give the vegans their way,
They’ll lock burgers and bacon away.
No more meat! It’s a crime!
Vegans ought to do time.
Lock ‘em all up together, I say.
“Let us strive, at all times for, accord
And make peace and goodwill our reward.
And for days when it’s hard
To maintain our regard,
We’ll have hangings and floggings restored.”
“Do you like silken bindings?” she purred.
‘Eh, I’m not really sure.’ I demurred.
“Well?” she tightened the cord,
“I’m still waiting!” she roared.
‘And at that point, my manhood was stirred.’
Or…
“Do you like silken bindings?” she purred.
‘Eh, I’m not really sure.’ I demurred.
“Well?” she tightened the cord,
“I’m still waiting!” she roared.
‘And at that point, my manhood deferred.’
Bestirred is better.
“Do you like silken bindings?” she purred.
‘Eh, I’m not really sure.’ I demurred.
“Well?” she tightened the cord,
“I’m still waiting!” she roared.
‘And at that point, my manhood bestirred.’
Having finally reached an accord,
All the delegates found themselves bored.
So, they started a spat,
Which destroyed concordat,
And went back to the old drawing board.
We played piano and people were floored!
Then we married, (and what a reward!)
We’re so happy, you see
Cuz my Charlie and me
Are always in tonal accord
We used to kiss under the trees
Enjoying the warm summer breeze
But then John moved away
And I cry every day
Seems I’ve got “Weeping Willow Disease”
I thought that my poodle was bright
She plays piano all day and all night
When she hits the wrong chord
It’s off-key and untoward
Seems her Bach is much worse than her bite
In Florida, palm trees will sway,
With sunbathers basking all day.
Some willing and proud
To be showing the crowd
What others should never display.
In the Spring, don’t sit under the trees!
(Even though there’s a beautiful breeze!)
When the pollen is high
You feel you’ll just die
Cuz you’ll sneeze and you’ll wheeze and dodge bees!
You gardeners, please make this pledge
Whenever you’re planting a hedge
Laurel is dandy
But shun the Leylandi
Between neighbours it’s driving a wedge
I know ‘ere’ is archaic, but I’m fully licenced.
An arboreal resident, I –
So conveniently close to the sky.
From my nest, I can flit,
Find a perch, dump some shit,
And begone ere the vic’ wipes his eye.
Syllable Adjustment On Line 2
I thought that my poodle was bright
She plays piano all day and night
When she hits the wrong chord
It’s off-key and untoward
Seems her Bach is much worse than her bite
It was an extremely jarring, untuneful chord.
A listener reacted as though he’d been gored.
Targeted the oboist,
And the bass soloist
Drove them off the stage, brandishing his sword.
As hist’ry will sadly record
A basket of those she deplored
Did Hillary in,
Giving Donald the win
With votes that could not be ignored.
His electoral victory scored,
He baited his bigoted horde
With alternate facts
That justified acts
Of hatred and evil, untoward.
There still may be time to reward
This land that we all have adored.
In the year twenty-twenty,
Let’s cast votes aplenty.
The outcome must not be encored.
An arboreal resident, I –
So conveniently close to the sky.
Free to hop, skip and jump,
Find a perch, take a dump,
And tweet, “Human, here’s mud in your eye.”
All my protests were largely ignored
As she skilfully knotted the cord.
I’d thought I had ensnared,
So, was quite unprepared,
For the rigour with which she ‘explored’.
The Good Old Days? or The Trumpian Solution?
“Every option’s been fully explored –
You’re no nearer to reaching accord.
Since there’s no room for doubt,
And you can’t sort it out,
We’ll put every last one to the sword.”
The Good Old Days? 2
Option one demands wiping the board
So all parties can reach an accord.
Option two is less kind,
But I think you will find
That it beats option three, “It’s the sword!”
The Good Old Days?
“With all parties no nearer accord
I suggest a new course be explored.
Tell me who still dissents,
We’ll adjourn to our tents,
And I’ll ginger them up with the sword.”
Don’t lynch me!
In the good old days, reaching accord
Would mean bowing the knee to your lord.
Not today! Lords are out,
Once for all, put to rout,
By the feminist movement. I’m awed.
Do the annals of history record
Any POTUS so wholly abhorred?
Did a President ever
Believe it was clever
To blackmail the country? Oh, lord!
He had bound her with chains and with cord,
And she’d won the ‘best hooker’ award.
But the guy was a pain;
Golden showers again?
Trump’s ‘best hooker’ was utterly bored.
Yes his hooker was utterly bored
At the routine with chains and with cord
To the chagrin of Don
The interest was gone
He could tell by how loudly she snored.
I’m an old-fashioned cove, I contend,
And I live by a code I commend.
So, if this strikes a chord,
Then, just maybe I’ve scored;
Push ‘accept’ right away, and befriend.
A response to Diane – not a dig!
Yes, Diane is completely correct,
It’s a topic in need of neglect.
All these hookers with cord,
It’s no wonder she’s bored;
Let’s abandon this theme. Press reject!
Sven and Ole were both in accord:
“We can steer this ship through that fjord!”
But alas, soon their skiff
Crashed straight into a cliff.
(Need I say it? Their crew’s ox was gored.)
Please don’t slander my poor hemlock tree.
It’s not poisonous–trust me! You see,
It is not like the plant
That’s called hemlock; it can’t
Ever hurt you–so no need to flee!
There’s a tree that I love in the park.
I can find it at night when it’s dark.
Dogwood’s blossoms and fruit
Bring delight to my snoot,
But what’s best is the sound of its bark.
Our rabbit was so gosh-darn bored
So we gave him a crunchy reward!
Then he fixed our T.V.
It was easy cuz he
Chomped away on the jumbo black cord.
When rhyming, this poet’s word choice
Created a feminine voice
In a work that’s called “Trees,”
Which is why some think he’s
A woman whose first name was Joyce.
The person I would like to accord
The most unfit for office award
Is that amoral chump
President Donald Trump
Such a shame he just can’t be ignored
Minor improvement.
An arboreal resident, I –
So conveniently close to the sky.
Free to hop, skip and jump,
Find a perch, take a dump,
And tweet, “Hey man! Here’s mud in your eye.”
Another minor improvement.
Yes, Diane is completely correct,
It’s a topic in need of neglect.
All these hookers with cord,
It’s no wonder she’s bored;
Let’s abandon this theme. Press ‘Reject’!
A literal-minded young guy’d
Watched his cable rates jump, horrified.
He tried cutting the cord,
Earned a Darwin Award
Because slicing the wire left him fried.
In the 50’s we never got bored!
Cuz some things were just so untoward!
Like my cousin Marie
Was so stupid that she
Choked herself with the telephone cord.
I thought that I’d just be unable!
But at last laid my cards on the table!
I cut that darn cord
What a pleasant reward!
I now live my life without cable.
Oops! too many syllables! Try Again with different pronouns:
We thought that we’d just be unable
Then took it right off of the table!
At last cut the cord
What a pleasant reward!
We now live our lives without cable
Melania has a good head
People think she is very well-bred
But don’t hire Trump’s spouse
To go spruce up your house
Cause she’ll dye your new Christmas tree red
Mad: above limerick: Could you add “go” to line 4 so it will read:
“To go spruce up your house”
I think the meter will be better.
Thank You
Lisi
*****
Done.
Buster sat by the yard door and pawed;
In his mouth was a leash made of cord.
This meant, “Master – let’s go!”
I said, “Buster – the snow!”
So, he turned on me eyes that implored.
When you’re finding life dull, and you’re bored,
Try this tip from the Viking Accord.
Sail away, sack a village –
Some quick rape and pillage –
Then home with your plunder on board.
“Viking life gets you out on the fjord,
And quite often, we take trips abroad.
Join today – sack a village –
We teach rape and pillage –
Are you Vikings? Then join the Accord!”
Having abandoned the very fruitful bondage motif, I am now introducing the rape and pillage motif as an alternative. Boys will be boys. LOL
Trees are sources of infinite good:
They give shade, fruit, nuts, syrup and wood —
And what’s more, in a pinch
They are useful to lynch
Orange monsters (if only we could!).
“You’re all gonna be rich!” someone roared.
When the values went up, spirits soared.
Values plunged, our hearts sank;
They foreclosed at the bank;
And that ‘someone’ was hanged by a cord.
“I’m coming down hard off a breeze;
Just hoping to clear all those trees…”
Now safe without fail,
A young hang glider’s tale
Describing the moment he pees.
Wednesday Addams found out that a cord
Is a marvelous thing if you’re bored:
She strangled her brother,
Her dad and her mother,
Who found their eternal reward.
Wednesday, acting alone, killed all three?
Uncle Fester was in on the spree.
Their first choice was a sword,
But they settled for cord,
Because blood is so messy. You see?
As the apple fell from the tree
Newton cried out excitedly
If my theory’s right
I think I’ve just might
Have discovered gravity
A two-fer: The Old Oak
The couple, in ardent accord,
Their initials in tree bark had scored,
Leaving evidence, oaken,
Of love never broken.
They’ve aged, yet they know they’re adored.
Reference to the Moody Blues
I thought, that as I was bored,
I’d search for the Lost Chord.
Then with a whack,
It hit me, smack,
Who’d know if it’s ever been scored.
It’s not only because I am Finnish
That I help forest fires to diminish.
I might be mistook,
But just take a look,
Most forests aren’t black, they are greenish.
Out walking I met me a lumberjack
Who invited me home to his rhumba sack
Up his pole stood
As firm as some wood
But no phone, alas he’s a number lack.
My marriage is bound by frayed cord
That unravels as points are scored
From the twice daily spat
Of vile tit-for-tat,
There’s no hope that love be restored.
Trump tries hard at accord
But he gets either angry or bored.
There’s also to say,
He wants things his own way,
And for him to be overlord.
Wood (chopped up trees)
I’ll order just half of a cord,
I’ve a very small space where it’s stored…
But if I burn it to ash
A lot more could I stash,
So I think that ten cord is the ord.
Way up in our Juniper tree,
Some robins are there on a spree.
With berries fermented,
Their beaks are now dented
From banging a window or three.
By accident he lit a cord
In the bag where the rockets were stored.
He’d dropped his cheroot
And off they did shoot
Horizontally, my how they roared.
While picking the fruit a man soared
On a ladder whilst swinging his sword
He did it this way
We all heard him say
Assuring the apple was cored
Now we’re old, with bad joints and sore feet,
We find bus rides more bitter than sweet,
For we struggle to board
Or reach up for the cord,
And few youngsters will give us a seat.
Should we drive? No, that’s hardly a lark:
Trees take scary new shapes in the dark,
They cavort in the rain,
And it’s hard to explain
Why we hit one whenever we park.
Taking cabs is a strain on the purse,
Makes our budget and blood pressure worse –
No, I think we’ll stay in
Where it’s warm, play some gin,
Drink some scotch, and write crotchety verse.
A lanyard’s a strange kind of cord
That kids weave on a spool when they’re bored.
Some finish, but more
Throw the spool in a drawer
With the other weird junk that they hoard.
Suggested by Sharon’s tree limerick. Sorry they’re a bit grim.
“As a tree, I don’t mind giving shade,
Or my bounty, that’s why I was made.
But I strongly object
When you humans erect,
Having first destroyed forest and glade.”
“As for trees, we are wroth – and dismayed,
By the folly mankind has displayed.
Malcontent, you’re misled;
Carry on, we’re all dead.
You’re in charge but you’ve only betrayed.”
Minor improvement.
Buster sat by the yard door and pawed;
In his mouth was a leash made of cord.
This meant, “Master – let’s go!”
I said, “Buster – the snow!”
So, he fixed me with eyes that implored.
Like a hound dog that swallowed a cord,
Trump is driving us out of our gourd.
Through the shutdown we sit
And examine his shit
Till it passes and calm is restored.
As a Viking, I live by the sword,
Which is tied to my wrist by a cord.
I just might, in a fight,
As I swing left and right,
Win, ‘Most Valuable Viking’ award.
Just a thought, Sharon.
If your hound dog has swallowed a cord,
Euthanasia might be explored.
Simple kindness dictates,
And no law abrogates,
It’s an option that can’t be ignored.
Every hound dog is given its day,
Which is fine but comes time it must pay.
Let the misery end,
It’s a kindness, my friend,
But gets harder the more you delay.
Another minor improvement
If your hound dog has swallowed a cord,
Euthanasia might be explored.
Simple kindness dictates,
And no law abrogates,
It’s an option that can’t be ignored.
Every hound dog, it’s said, has its day,
Which is fine but comes time it must pay.
Let the misery end,
It’s a kindness, my friend,
But gets harder the more you delay.
By my wife and my dog, I’m adored,
But now broke, only one can afford.
Dog or wife? What a choice!
If the dog had a voice,
Then I’m sure we could reach an accord.
Mad, please remove the hyphens I’ve inserted between hound and dog. TKS.
****
Done.
My dear, we must reach an accord
Deciding ’bout Chevy or Ford!
“Here’s a bicycle, Sue
It’s the kind built for two
Cause that’s all that we can afford.”
To a nut tree the squirrel was drawn.
Said the tree, “I do wish you’d move on
To a walnut or oak.
They have shells you can poke.
Please go find someone else to pecan.”
“Louise” Maurice Chevalier
Last evening I felt a warm breeze
It seemed to have come from the trees
The twittering birds
Sang a song with the words:
“I love you, my darling Louise”
Dissonant music he truly abhorred
Ready to slice and dice with his sword
Clashing harmony
Made him angry
Had his own way of striking a chord.
There must be a “Bonding Accord”
In a marriage bestowed by the Lord
Never give up that grin
Cause then you might win
The “Grand Science Fiction Award”
All during their walk through the trees,
He yammers – just shooting the breeze.
She says “OK stop.”
While removing her top;
“You need to be talking to these.”
“Well, St. Pete, you have had to record
That I’m evil, I’ve lied, and I’ve whored.
‘WORST PRESIDENT EVER!’
But, hey, I’m so clever,
I’ll offer a deal to the Lord.”
My Response To Brian’s limerick, above.
Well, St Peter just laughed, right out loud,
And was joined, in his mirth, by the crowd.
“I am bound by The Lord
To refuse an accord –
And there are NO EXCEPTIONS allowed.”
Well, St Peter just laughed, right out loud,
And was joined, in his mirth, by the crowd.
“I am bound by The Lord
To refuse an accord –
And there are NO EXCEPTIONS allowed.”
“Things work differently here, you will learn,
You’ll be brought up to speed while you burn.
There’s no compromise here,
Lies don’t work, nor does fear;
And we don’t reassess – or adjourn.”
Well, St Peter just laughed, right out loud,
And was joined, in his mirth, by the crowd.
“I am bound by The Lord
To refuse an accord –
And there are NO EXCEPTIONS allowed.”
“Things work differently here, you will learn,
You’ll be brought up to speed while you burn.
There’s no compromise here,
Lies don’t work, nor does fear;
And we don’t reassess – or adjourn.”
Can a limerick be heaven sent?
“Mister President – think and repent!
You’ve still time to record,
That you’re straight, with The Lord;
Make the play, or prepare for descent.”
“Re your blessings, best count AND record.
Just like you, I was rich and adored.
Now life’s bleak and I’m broke –
Happened all at one stroke;
My names Donald and now I’m abhorred.”
Slightly better.
“Re your blessings, best count AND record.
Just like you, I was rich and adored.
Now life’s bleak and I’m broke –
Happened all at one stroke;
My names Donald; today I’m abhorred.”
A Tree’s Eye View Or Too Much Time To Think
Which is better, a tree or a man?
Let me answer as best as I can.
While a man humps and breeds,
All trees do is drop seeds.
Could it be man was in on the plan?
Not forgetting the mammals and birds;
All get matey in couples or herds.
They can all fornicate,
We have bees pollinate.
The injustice deprives me of words.
Sorry, this must be annoying; but I always seem to find improvements after I’ve posted. Perhaps I should try to be less impetuous…? Naa!
A Tree’s Eye View Or Too Much Time To Think
Which is better, a tree or a man?
Let me answer as best as I can.
While a man humps and breeds,
All trees do is drop seeds.
Could it be that man altered the plan?
Not forgetting the mammals and birds;
All get matey in couples or herds.
They can all fornicate,
We have bees pollinate.
The injustice deprives me of words.
A Tree’s Eye View Or Too Much Time To Think
Which is better, a tree or a man?
Let me answer as best as I can.
While a man humps and breeds,
All trees do is drop seeds.
Could it be that man altered the plan?
Not forgetting the mammals and birds;
All get matey in couples or herds.
They can all fornicate,
We have bees pollinate.
The injustice deprives me of words.
But when all’s said and done, you’ll agree,
That there’s much to be said for the tree.
Trees don’t lie, cheat or shoot –
And they never pollute –
And they’re handy for dogs who must pee.
From the moment they severed the cord
Life went tits up and never restored.
Dragged from warm, cosy night
To be slapped in the light,
And then forced to bed down on the ward.
Our initials were carved in a tree
It said, that “forever” we’ll be
But soon we did part
Cause I saw the same heart
Seems that other trees cheated on me.
Eve and Adam ate food from a tree
They were healthy and strong as can be!
But when Eve ate a leaf
Adam cried, “Oh good grief!
That’s the laundry I’m taking to Li”
Sorry! Absent apostrophe in the first post.
“Re your blessings, best count AND record.
Just like you, I was rich and adored.
Now life’s bleak and I’m broke –
Happened all at one stroke;
My name’s Donald; today I’m abhorred.”
AAA (Adored / Abhorred Anonymous)
“Re your blessings, best count AND record.
Just like you, I was rich and adored.
Now life’s bleak and I’m broke –
Happened all at one stroke;
My name’s Donald; today I’m abhorred.”
“I’ve been given a new spool of cord;
It’s so useful, I never get bored.
Making tents is good fun,
But all-time number one?
I lashed Pa to his chair while he snored.”
AAA Version 2
“My name’s Donald. Today I’m abhorred,
But time was, I was rich and adored.
Lost it all at a stroke,
Now life’s bleak and I’m broke…
Are you getting all this? Press ‘Record’!”
I took good advice from a tree
To “give” seems to be the right “key”
I went out on a limb
To help my friend Jim
And that sure did satisfy me.
I’m done with high fashion, I’m bored
Before, only ‘name labels’ scored
Brogue shoes and tweed
Are all that I need
And pants that are made out of cord
My family tree’s quite a mix
Gotta say it contains mostly hicks
The rest of the crowd
Are disgusting and loud
It’s a cactus tree full of dumb pricks
My second version:
My family tree’s quite a mix
Gotta say it contains mostly hicks
The rest of the bunch
Are just so “out to lunch”
It’s a cactus tree full of dumb pricks
Inside an old telephone booth,
Stood a horny young man from Duluth.
Instructions ignored,
Wrapped his bone with the cord;
Then made calls that were very uncouth.
I lost both of my legs at the knees
With a chainsaw while chopping down trees.
A task I now meet
Is finding my feet
After buried by dog if you please.
The parkourer’s hang round like derricks
A Stephen, a John and three Eric’s
They swing with great ease
From branches in trees
Most highly skilled these limb Eric’s
See the gentle trees
Lofting in the breeze…
But then again
It was Force 10
And minus twelve degrees.
The matador was nearly gored,
He’d tripped on his shoe-lace cord.
The picador speared
The bull as it reared,
And dignity was then restored.
See the forest and not the trees,
The solution is really a breeze…
Give all those at the border
A rake and an order,
“Clean up the mess if you please.”
He’ll just string you along
By pretending to sing the same song.
You’ll not be adored,
No knot in the chord,
And pretty soon he’ll be gone.
The sleepy old man is in court again
It seems he’s committed a tort again
As he dozed and snored
He crashed his Accord
And now it’s a Honda accordion
I drive around in an old Ford
While my wife drives a Honda Accord
I’m truly sorry
But a Ferrari
Is far more than I can afford.
A punk rocker once became famous
Producing a sound strange and heinous
He’d play a B chord
The same time he gored
A stick in the bass player’s anus.
Throughout hist’ry we’ve acted like tyrants.
Mother Nature we’ve thumbed with defiance.
We’re not top of the chain.
To the Earth, we’re a pain.
It’s not humans, but trees, that are giants.
Through the droughts and the storms, trees survive,
And the insects and animals thrive.
After noises are stirred,
A cacophony’s heard.
Sit and listen. The woods come alive.
Huge sequoias are just stupendous.
We are spellbound and find they rend us
Rather speechless, in awe,
‘Cause the things people saw
Are amazing; they’re just tree-mendous.
Thanks to efforts begun by John Muir,
The sequoias will surely endure.
So wherever they’re from,
Generations to come
Can experience all their grandeur.
Took a trip to the Florida Keys
We heard they have beautiful trees!
Under Dogwoods we sat
Had a real friendly chat
It was only one hundred degrees!
We made torrid love under the trees
Just me and my lover Louise
Found a great hidden spot
We were naked and hot
Then my wife appeared, shouting, “SAY CHEESE”
I’ve a feeling the birds and the trees
Are conspiring – ‘gainst me, if you please.
I am bombed from above
By gull, starling and dove,
And infected with Dutch Elm Disease.
I’m convinced that the birds and the trees
Are conspiring – ‘gainst me, if you please.
I am bombed from above
By gull, starling and dove,
And infected with Dutch Elm Disease.
It may be that a careless remark,
Overheard as I strolled through the park,
Has been misunderstood,
All I said was, that wood
Makes a wonderful blaze after dark.
They’ve uncovered a branch of my tree
And it’s posing a problem for me,
As it raises some doubt.
What to do? Tough it out,
Or relinquish all claim for a fee?
A textual variation.
There’s a branch in my family tree
That is posing a problem for me,
As it raises some doubt.
What to do? Prune it out,
Or relinquish all claim for a fee?
Mad Kane’s Limerick-Off word is “cord,”
That she rhymed it just once made me bored,
But what makes her “mad,”
Is her politics are bad,
And no political points has she scored.
But her popularity would have soared,
If she wrote for a cause not so whored,
She yaks for the Libs,
Who drool on their bibs,
An original thought they cannot afford.
Just a few words re pulling the cord:
Most important is, know where it’s stored.
Jump and pull. If you’re late
There will be no debate,
As complaints are ignored if you’re floored.
Hey, I. M.! How amazzing you ain’t –
Please abandon this blog ‘cause you cain’t
Makes us laugh, which is prime,
Or keep rhythm – a crime,
And we don’t like the pictures you paint.
To all, re the above, if my cavalier use of ‘we’ gives offence, I apologise. I wrote in haste. As you may know I can be impetuous.
I’m warming to my subjeect – I just hope I haven’t misinterpreted. I. M. will, I am sure, understnd and forgive. Nah!
Hey, I. M.! How amazzing you ain’t –
Please abandon this blog ‘cause you cain’t
Makes us laugh, which is prime,
Or keep rhythm – a crime,
And we don’t like the pictures you paint.
Oh, I. M. I’m an ass! I am floored.
I omitted the requisite ‘Cord’.
Dearie me, you must think…
But of course, you don’t. Shrink
Back into your hole, you’re outscored.
Dee dum, dee dum, dee dum…
Hey, I. M.! How amazzing you ain’t –
Please abandon this blog ‘cause you cain’t
Makes us laugh, which is prime,
Or keep rhythm – a crime,
And we don’t like the pictures you paint.
Oh, I. M. I’m an ass! I am floored.
I omitted the requisite ‘Cord’.
Dearie me, you must think…
But of course, you don’t. Shrink
Back into your hole, you’re outscored.
Hey, I. M.! Just a quick question, please.
Weren’t you happier, up in the trees?
Seems to me that you’ve found,
You’re misplaced on the ground.
It’s a thought – I’m just shooting the breeze.
Oh, I. M., I’m so grateful – it’s true!
You’re my muse and you really came through.
I’ll admit, I was bored,
Having run out of ‘cord’,
But I’m back with a bag, thanks to you.
The I. M. Amazzing Full Response.
Hey, I. M.! How amazzing you ain’t –
Please abandon this blog ‘cause you cain’t
Makes us laugh, which is prime,
Or keep rhythm – a crime,
And we don’t like the pictures you paint.
Oh, I. M. I’m an ass! I am floored.
I omitted the requisite ‘Cord’.
Dearie me, you must think…
But of course, you don’t. Shrink
Back into your hole, you’re outscored.
Hey, I. M.! Just a quick question, please.
Weren’t you happier, up in the trees?
Seems to me that you’ve found,
You’re misplaced on the ground.
It’s a thought – I’m just shooting the breeze.
Oh, I. M., you’re a shot in the arm;
What one notices first is your charm.
I’m surprised you’re allowed
To be out in a crowd,
But suppose you can’t do any harm.
Oh, I. M., I’m so grateful – it’s true!
You’re my muse and you really came through.
I’ll admit, I was bored,
Having run out of ‘cord’,
But I’m back with a bag, thanks to you.
Hey, Mr. “Amazzing,” I’m bored.
Right-wing trolls always strike the same chord:
Neither funny nor smart,
Lacking brains and a heart,
And by meter you’re utterly floored.
Hey I. M., did you spot the deliberate mistake?
The I. M. Amazzing Total Response
Hey, I. M.! How amazzing you ain’t –
Please abandon this blog ‘cause you cain’t
Makes us laugh, which is prime,
Or keep rhythm – a crime,
And we don’t like the pictures you paint.
Oh, I. M. I’m an ass! I am floored.
I omitted the requisite ‘Cord’.
Dearie me, you must think…
But of course, you don’t. Shrink
Back into your hole, you’re outscored.
Hey, I. M.! Just a quick question, please.
Weren’t you happier, up in the trees?
Seems to me that you’ve found,
You’re misplaced on the ground.
It’s a thought – I’m just shooting the breeze.
Oh, I. M., you’re a shot in the arm;
What one notices first is your charm.
I’m surprised you’re allowed
To be out in a crowd,
But suppose you can’t do any harm.
Oh, I. M., I’m so grateful – it’s true!
You’re my muse and you really came through.
I’ll admit, I was bored,
Having run out of ‘cord’,
But I’m back with a bang, thanks to you.
Nice one, Tim.
A pine tree once boarded a bus
For Sequoia Park, stating thus:
“I must make this trek
‘Cause back in my neck,
I can’t see the forest for us!””
Sorry, but he just keeps giving.
The I. M. Amazzing Total Response
Hey, I. M.! How amazzing you ain’t –
Please abandon this blog ‘cause you cain’t
Makes us laugh, which is prime,
Or keep rhythm – a crime,
And we don’t like the pictures you paint.
Oh, I. M. I’m an ass! I am floored.
I omitted the requisite ‘Cord’.
Dearie me, you must think…
But of course, you don’t. Shrink
Back into your hole, you’re outscored.
Hey, I. M.! Just a quick question, please.
Weren’t you happier, up in the trees?
Seems to me that you’ve found,
You’re misplaced on the ground.
It’s a thought – I’m just shooting the breeze.
Oh, I. M., you’re a shot in the arm;
What one notices first is your charm.
I’m surprised you’re allowed
To be out in a crowd,
But suppose you can’t do any harm.
Oh, I. M., I’m so grateful – it’s true!
You’re my muse and you really came through.
I’ll admit, I was bored,
Having run out of ‘cord’,
But I’m back with a bang, thanks to you.
Poor I. M. – have I been very cruel?
I’m the kindest of souls, as a rule.
It was just that your shit
Rankled, not being wit;
And the fact I’m convinced that you drool.
The I. M. Amazzing Total Response
Hey, I. M.! How amazzing you ain’t –
Please abandon this blog ‘cause you cain’t
Makes us laugh, which is prime,
Or keep rhythm – a crime,
And we don’t like the pictures you paint.
Oh, I. M. I’m an ass! I am floored.
I omitted the requisite ‘Cord’.
Dearie me, you must think…
But of course, you don’t. Shrink
Back into your hole, you’re outscored.
Hey, I. M.! Just a quick question, please.
Weren’t you happier, up in the trees?
Seems to me that you’ve found,
You’re misplaced on the ground.
It’s a thought – I’m just shooting the breeze.
Oh, I. M., you’re a shot in the arm;
What one notices first is your charm.
I’m surprised you’re allowed
To be out in a crowd,
But suppose you can’t do any harm.
Oh, I. M., I’m so grateful – it’s true!
You’re my muse and you really came through.
I’ll admit, I was bored,
Having run out of ‘cord’,
But I’m back with a bang, thanks to you.
Poor I. M. – have I been very cruel?
I’m the kindest of souls, as a rule.
It was just that your shit
Rankled, not being wit;
And the fact I’m convinced that you drool.
Better?
Poor I. M. – have I been very cruel?
I’m the kindest of souls, as a rule.
My excuse is, that shit,
Which you pass off as wit,
Said, “I’m talentless, thick – and I drool.”
“Air Force One” surely struck an odd chord
As up in the yonder it soared
On the back of the jet
(Something I can’t forget)
Was a sign that read “Baby On Board”
Nancy’s message did strike a wrong chord
“Security we can’t afford”
So he shot from the hip
And cancelled their trip
Tit for tat was their only reward.
Not for contest, just for fun-followup to Kirk Miller’s 11:31 am of 1/11/19. Tree v. Bush
Talking of bush I’m not a civilian,
As a Gyno I have looked at a million,
But it is getting rare,
There’s not that much hair there,
Thanks to the wax job called The Brazilian.
Tony your response was quite ambitious,
But most of what you said is fictitious,
Your response is my reward,
Consistent with your horde,
I can count on Liberals to be vicious.
There are many things Trump has ignored
Which impeded to strike the right chord
So cut him some slack
Cause he needs to hop back
To the “Land Of The ‘Ole Drawing Board”
“Oh, I. M., you’re a treasure – adored!
And you’re wrong, I’m not part of the horde.
But you struck out at Mad,
Who, at no time, has had,
A political bias onboard.”
“We’re not here to make digs untoward.
You might say we’re the ‘Lim’rick’ Accord.
And apart from Mad’s praise,
At the end of each phase,
Having fun is our only reward.”
On the border wall issue no accord
Staggering cost we cannot afford
Don’t you worry says builder Don
A slick talking accomplished con
I can loan you money from my hoard
“Oh, I. M., you’re a treasure – adored!
And you’re wrong, I’m not part of the horde.
But you struck out at Mad,
Who, at no time, has had,
A political bias onboard.”
You are right, Dear I. M., I’m ambitious,
But not to be nasty or vicious.
I’m for kindness, you see,
And respect courtesy;
And of any agenda, suspicious.
“Answer this and we’re done with this board.
Why sign up? To strike notes of discord?
With your views you intrude,
Which, to my mind, is rude.
And for that, and THAT ONLY, I roared.”
“We’re not here to make digs untoward.
You might say we’re the ‘Lim’rick’ Accord.
And apart from Mad’s praise,
At the end of each phase,
Having fun is our only reward.”
A practical limerick for anyone going off-grid this weekend.
You can fashion a bot’ from this gourd,
Which, when tied to your waist by a cord,
Is kept handy and safe,
Though in time it will chafe;
Better that than a thirst untoward.
This Limerick-Off ends tomorrow, Saturday, at 10 pm (Eastern time.) So please get your limerick stragglers in.
Mad, please correct ‘waste’ with ‘waist’ in the limerick above. Thank you.
********
Done.
Limiting Liability.
Health and Safety Demands: While onboard,
DO NOT MESS WITH YOUR PARACHUTE CORD.
At the moment you dive,
We can show you’re alive;
So, it’s not down to us if you’re floored.
Limiting Liability – Improved
Health and Safety Demands: While onboard,
DO NOT MESS WITH YOUR PARACHUTE CORD.
Before making your dive,
Please tick, “Yes, I’m Alive”:
If you don’t, and don’t make it, we’re floored.
(Boy are we having a snow storm right now!)
In Chicago the winter’s a “breeze”
Out your window, you’ll gape at white trees!
So make a nice fire
Enjoy your desire
Just don’t outside. You will freeze.
Tony, your “respect” and “kindness” are a facade,
It is likely for only yourself you applaud,
But I detect your anger stored,
Perhaps counseling be explored,
Or maybe some visits to a House of God.
Be assured, “Mad” I did not offend,
A warm welcome to me she did send,
My intentions above board,
Glad they are not ignored,
The very best of everything is a blend.
There’s an actor I’ve always adored
This man always “strikes the right chord”
Cause “Star Wars” was WOW!
And “Apocalypse Now”
Is the time to catch Harrison Ford.
(actually true and that is her real name!)
In the 90’s my son said, “I’m bored
To make matters worse, I’ve not scored!”
Then with Tracey he slept
And his poor Mama wept
Oh dear me! This gal struck his right chord
The Trumpster was there on his feet
To show off his sumptuous treat.
With Clemson onboard,
He hit just the right chord:
“Amazzing hamberders to eat…”
Thanks so much everyone for another fun two weeks of limericks. This Limerick-Off is officially over. And the winner is…
Limerick-Off Award 314 . Congratulations to the winners!
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Plane .