Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: SIGHT or SITE at the end of any one line (Submission Deadline: August 29, 2020)
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 SIGHT or SITE 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 CHILDREN, using any rhyme word. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best CHILDREN-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 August 30, 2020, 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, August 29, 2020 at 4:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my SIGHT/SITE-rhyme limerick:
Though I hate to appear impolite,
Or petty and quick to indict,
Trump’s a blight on our nation;
A Trump relocation
To prison would be a fine sight.
And here’s my CHILDREN-themed limerick:
We adopted a pet at the pound;
An adorable, cuddly young hound.
The children both love her,
But run off for cover
When doggie-doo mishaps are found.
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: Animal and Pet Humor, Children Humor, Children Poetry, Competition Limerick, Dog Humor, Dog Limerick, Donald Trump, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Poetry & Prompts, Prison Humor, Rudeness Humor, Writing Prompts
Chocolate cake is a heavenly sight
And with me, always love at first bite
But the calorie hounds
Say I’ve gone out-of-bounds
As I’ve gained seven pounds overnight.
Kids are sweet and more cuddly than cats
And I love them (the way I love rats)
Of such darlings I’d boast
But such lies I won’t post
‘Cause deep DOWN we know most are just brats!
The garbage these bums leave just spreads
And they tear my whole garden to shreds
So all trespassers might
Just be shot right on sight
Lest my pitbulls should bite off their heads.
There was a young man called Billy
Who had tattoos on his willy
My eyesight is poor
I can’t read number four
It says “Zip up my flies, I feel chilly”.
Having children’s amazingly fine
Didn’t know life could be so divine!
The first sentence they learn
(In your ears it will burn)
Goes something like this: “That one’s mine.”
Mad:
L5 above limerick…… Could you please remove the colon from
“That one’s mine:
So it will read “That one’s mine”
****
Done, plus I replaced it with a period.
COVID RULES/Bad Hombre
This hoodlum is itching to fight
Will you please consider my plight?
With all his insistence
I must keep my distance
We can’t be in contact on-site!
Self Defense
I warned him that my dog will bite
He pulled himself up to full height
And lunged for my bag
Called me an old hag
The end result was quite a sight!
Arraignment
With COVID we often indict
Remotely on-screen via byte
The judge may appear
In boxers, I fear
Could he pull this trick off on-site?
Row on row, lovely girls, left and right.
It’s a challenge that’s sure to ignite
The admiring young man
Who thinks, “Can I? I can!
And I’ll prove it – the sec’ I’m on site.”
Some subscribe to the view, “Might is right!”
It’s their warrant for starting a fight.
If invited to chat …
“We’ve no time for all that!
We don’t do concordat – clear the site!”
“Yes, we want him! Arrest him on sight!
And be careful – he’ll put up a fight.
His name’s Donald, and yez
He will claim he’s the Pres’;
Just ignore him.” ‘Deluded?’ “That’s right.”
“Little children?” said W. C.
“Quite delightful, if you’re asking me?
But they must be well-cooked –
This can’t be overlooked;
And, on average, my limit is three.”
“Yes, I see it! I see the bright light;
But the brightness is blinding my sight.
Is it heaven? Can’t tell.
No, more likely, it’s hell –
They have, ‘Days Of Our Lives’, on, all night.”
When they grow to full stature, small boys
Still continue to play with their toys.
Motor bikes, cars and tools …
Girls know boys are such fools;
They learn nothing in schools – girls learn ploys.
Advice to young wives.
“Yes, at first, it’s alarming – take fright!
But, in time, you’ll get used to the sight.
He’ll need training, of course;
Be his guide, reinforce,
And voila! It’s a source of delight.”
For the skittish young maid, the first sight
May evoke the response, “Fight or flight?”
“It looks harmless enough,
So, I’m gonna hang tough;
If it starts to play rough, then I’ll bite.”
Chocolate cake is, indeed, my delight!
Just the thought makes my fancy take flight.
Breakfast, luncheon and tea—
“And for dinner?” Yes, three!
And you’d best have a back-up on site.
Is it in vogue to wear a face mask?
You’d probably better not ask
So on location it would depend
As to whether you would offend
When you’ve got them in your sight.
A new baby is fragile like glass.
To the mommy, you must never sass.
For instance, don’t say
(In a sharp-witted way)
“That cute little smile is just gas”.
We dined under very dim light.
I thought it was love at first sight.
After one more quick look,
My whole body shook.
That raccoon look was sure Mr. Right.
Err … AABBA, your pen-name is indeed what the rhyme-scheme of a limerick is supposed to be.
They adored him, it couldn’t be clearer;
All those fans, not one mocker or sneerer!
Donald grinned with delight;
The line stretched out of sight
In his lovely infinity mirror.
To the ogling male, failing sight
Is a downer, a bummer – a blight!
As I get close, to view,
I get caught. They say, “Shoo!”
To which, I say, “Go screw!” Well, they might.
A sacrifice was required – I chose metre and kept cake.
Chocolate cake! The indulgence of choice.
Devil’s Food, Sachertorte – the Rolls Royce!
“Schwärtzwalder kirschtorte – light?”
I would shoot it on sight!
Can’t you see? It’s not right! Don’t rejoice!
We are now on our way to Madrid.
Packed the sippy cups, each with a lid
The bouncy chair, swing,
“Sleep-Time Cuddlies” that sing,
But we seem to have misplaced the kid.
As kids, they would squabble and fight;
Both yelling who’s wrong and who’s right.
Now each an adult,
Any further tumult
Requires a cross-country flight.
Schadenfreude, the voyeur’s delight.
Both are naked, he’s flaccid, they fight.
She says something unfair,
Lights a spark, passions flare,
And, ‘Hey, presto!’ he’s there! What a sight!
Who’d have thought we’d all grow up to be
What we are, as we are, you and me?
So much promise as kids –
Cockney slang, “Saucepan lids.” –
While we live, there’s still hope! Wait and see!
The proud boys are out in plain sight
saying it’s okay to be white
while Trump sends to hell
all from health to the mail
and makes them look like a proud blight.
I love choc’late, and what could compare?
But truly, I sure wouldn’t dare
Eat in front of the kids;
Then I’ll be on the skids.
Cuz frankly, I don’t want to share
When undressing at night, be polite!
Close and shutter your blinds, lest the sight
From your window put Irv
(Your new neighbor, the perv)
In position to over-excite.
You may think me a bitter old crone,
But my views about kids are well known:
From the poop to the croup
And through every age group
I can’t stand them til after they’re grown.
Saints and sinners all rush to the site.
Enterprise lends a hand and – Flood-Light!
Burgers, hotdogs, kebobs;
Kids applying for jobs;
Step aside for big nobs – it’s their rite!
It’s a wonder of life that a lad,
Who, on form, makes you think, “He’ll go bad!”
Far from going astray,
Finds himself and his way,
And stands tall every day as a dad.
“Fellow perverts! Attention! Say, ‘Hi!’
This is Irv’, our new member. That’s Cy’.
Cy’ will show you the sites –
Strict rotation, no fights –
If you mess with our fun, it’s ‘Goodbye!’”
“My mommy has beautiful clothes;
Her very good taste really shows.
And some will be mine
At the very first sign
I’m growing a couple of those.”
Things are not going well with my sight.
(Having trouble; it sure is a plight.)
My vision is blurred;
But my wife overheard
‘Bout a “focus group”, sounding just right.
I share an insomniac’s plight;
I’m rubbing them all through the night.
By morning, at best,
They can still pass the test
Of needing both sore eyes for sight.
With the tantrums, the whining, the mess,
You would think he’s age seven, or less.
And just who is this child
Smeared with dirt, running wild?
He mis-leads the afflicted U.S.
My compliments and thanks to Jean McEwan for the inspiration.
“Fellow perverts! Attention! Say, ‘Hi!’
This is Irv’, our new member. That’s Cy’.
Cy’ will show you the sites
And the local delights;
If you mess with our fun, it’s ‘Goodbye!’”
“You’ve a question, friend Irv’? Fire away!”
“Thank you, Cecil. I’d just like to say,
Your warm welcome – I’m stirred.
Now, my question: I’ve heard
You’ve got action on hand, night – and day?”
“Tsk, tsk, Irving! First day – you’re still new.
What you’ve heard is most certainly true;
But we keep the best sights,
For long servers. Take nights
And be patient! No jumping the queue.”
Irv’ was patient and stuck to the plan.
When they swooped, they caught all but one man.
Cy’ escaped, went to ground,
And has never been found.
Irv’, each night, walks his round, “Wow! Suzanne!”
“Coochy-coo! He’s a sweetie – so cute!
Who’d have thought it? His dad’s such a brute!
What’s his name?” “Who? His dad?”
“Silly! I meant the lad.”
“Liberace – you know, like the fruit.”
Infants, toddlers, teenagers – the horde!
As a parent, you’ll never be bored.
As the years take their toll,
Hold this thought to console,
“When they’re eighteen, I’m cutting the cord!”
“Daddy – Mummy says you’re a dead loss.
It’s the reason she’s always so cross.
She says Granny was right,
You’ve no backbone, no fight,
And you don’t give a toss. What’s a toss?”
For US readers, who may not be aware, ‘Toss’ is used as a slang term and means, among other things, ‘to masterbate’. I should have titled the above, ‘The Awkward Question’. LOL
My children just yell and they shout.
Here’s a plan that will work without doubt:
Don’t give them a key;
You’ll say, “YIPP AREE!
When you’ve locked them right out of the house
Rhyming Error! Try Again
My children just yell and they shout.
Here’s a plan that’ll work without doubt:
Don’t give them a key;
And you’ll say, “YIP AREE!”
Cuz you fine’ly have locked them all out.
Is it in vogue to wear a face mask?
You’re probably better off not to ask
So on location it will depend
As to whetheror not you’d offend
When you’ve got them in your sight
Well, maybe tonight is my night.
This guy looks like such a delight.
(unattractive was he),
And I’m sure you’ll agree
“Find Your Lover’s” a double-faced site.
I’m ‘Err …’ with Brian.
An enigma, A-A-B-B-A;
And ‘no clue between lines’ giveaway.
When you speak of your sight,
Are you ‘sniping’ for spite?
Either way, it ain’t right. Please replay.
Said a fellow whose future looked bright
When he bought a car showroom one night:
“Selling Edsels, I know,
Will bring decades of dough!”
Now a Burger King stands on the site.
Said the alien, “Keep out of sight!
We don’t want to be spotted tonight.
Please, no probings – it’s gross
And it leaves them morose;
So, no getting too close – it’s not right!”
“Just remember, we’re here for the beer.
We’ll take Bud and Sam Adams from here.
For the kids, get Bud Light,
They’ve got plenty on site;
You can party onboard, and I’ll steer.”
“Goodness gracious, Gaylord! You’re a sight!
Come in quick, ‘fore the neighbours take fright!
What on earth … are you drunk?”
“Hic! As drunk as a skunk!
Which is why you look scrumptious tonight.”
The Ballad Of Gaylord Suggs.
“Goodness gracious, Gaylord! You’re a sight!
Come in quick, ‘fore the neighbours take fright!
What on earth … are you drunk?”
“Hic! As drunk as a skunk!
Which is why you look scrumptious tonight.”
“Gaylord Suggs! Take that gleam from your eye!
You’re not having your way, so don’t try.”
“Mrs Suggs, it’s my right
And I’ll bed you tonight;
I’m not wastin’ good whiskey – standby!”
“Gaylord Suggs! Stop undressing – at once!
You’re in no state for romance, you dunce.”
“It ain’t romance I hunt,
So, decide, back or front?
Second thoughts, we’ll go both ways, for bunce.”
Mrs Suggs, knew when push came to shove,
She’d surrender, as meek as a dove.
Mister Suggs had his way,
And his wife had her say;
“We must do this more often, my love.”
His advice was the fatherly kind:
“Son, don’t marry the first girl you find.
For when love at first sight
starts to fade overnight,
in the end it goes legally blind.”
Trump woke up in the midst of the night
Cuz his dream gave him such a bad fright:
Daddy snatched the “small loan”;
Left him all on his own,
So he couldn’t botch up his new site.
“We were promised one helluva sight
If we got to the top by first light.
We were conned by our host,
Who stayed home and made toast,
Till the meteor struck – serves him right!”
An Old Woman declared, “Kids are treasures!”
though she lived in a shoe (with few pleasures).
Dared her inner soul feel
that some broken down heel
of a spouse might use birth control measures?
I suggest, while we still have our leisure,
We reflect on the loss of all pleasure.
You’ll have no time for you;
Compensations? A few;
When you’re old, they might think, “She’s a treasure!”
Rain plays havoc with specs when on site –
Even worse if I’m working at night.
Kaleidoscope vision,
Steamed lens – Bang! – Collision.
“Really, madam, that’s hardly polite!”
I reflect on that welcoming sight
That awaits me at home, every night.
Fifteen kids, and my wife,
They’re the loves of my life,
All those faces, so sunny and bright.
First attempt, had the trips; then the twins;
Followed up with the two sets of quins.
We’ve got sponsorship deals,
Which buys clothing and meals,
And still leaves us a little for sins.
Would be parents, take heed! Don’t forebear!
We’ve abandoned all sex – we don’t dare!
Though we love every one,
Fifteen kids mean no fun;
If you want one, we’re willing to share.
All structures must be done just right:
The span, and the width, and the height.
And follow this rule:
Disinfect ev’ry tool.
Build “Six Feet Apart Wear Your Mask Site”
“Please come in, though my house is a sight.”
She said “Yes, but I won’t stay the night.”
But when liquor starts flowing
And cheeks begin glowing,
There’s a pretty good chance that she might.
The kids are at Mom’s for the night
And her cares of the day out of sight.
But when sex toys appear,
She recoils in fear.
Catholic girls get very uptight.
Any time that a man is in sight,
She is drawn like a moth to a light,
I won’t say she’s easy,
And surely not sleazy,
But she rarely goes home for the night.
Remember, while home on this break,
That children are easy to make.
So it’s wise to go slow,
Or to even forgo.
Quite often they’re made by mistake.
He said “You’re a beautiful sight
And I’d sure like to do you tonight.”
She replied, “You’ll turn gray
Before I go all the way.
Although give me a ring and I might.
An old Cyclops, devoid of delight,
stayed holed up in his room day and night.
Then he found a quick cure
through a tourist brochure.
Now he’s traveling — seeing the sight.
Raising kids, is for sure, not a snap.
Some mom and dads call it a “trap”.
They won’t pick up their toys;
Cuz one of their ploys
Is “My arms are now taking a nap”
revised limerick, to make more sense
All structures must be built just right:
The span, and the width, and the height.
You must follow this rule:
“Disinfect Ev’ry Tool
Build A Six Feet Apart Wear A Mask Site”
To Little Miss Muffet’s delight,
She noticed a spider in flight.
She asked, “Why are you here”?
He answered, “My dear,
I’m creating a new webby site”.
I’ve been watching my children at play
And they’re really quite rotten, I’d say.
They pull hair, punch, and kick;
Eldest son’s just a dick.
This must all be my wife’s DNA.
“My, oh, my! That’s a wonderful sight!
But stop pointing – it isn’t polite!
Good for frightening whores
And for knocking down doors.
May I stroke it? You’re said it won’t bite.”
“‘Boobs and Buns’ is a popular site,
Filling days with diverting delight.
For the true connoisseur,
Ask for Suzanne and Fleur,
Say I sent you, they’ll see you’re all right.”
Outspoken?
“Come, my darlings, give granny a kiss!”
“Must we, mother? She says things amiss.
She says you’re an old tart,
And that Dad’s a wet fart,
And besides which, she smells of old piss!”
“Mrs Suggs, I would woo you, tonight!
To add spice, you could put up a fight.”
I won’t fight, do your worst.
Have your way if you durst,
But I’m keeping the TV in sight.”
A toddler is never malicious.
And grannys all call them “delicious”.
Yet when they’re around,
And you don’t hear a sound,
You know that there’s something suspicious.
Rhyming Error!!
A toddler is never malicious.
Their questions are so repetitious!
And when they’re around,
And you don’t hear a sound,
Mom knows there is something suspicious.
“For sore eyes, my love, you are a sight”
came out funny and ended the night.
Snapped his girlfriend, irate,
“I dressed up for this date!”
He got left ’cause his syntax weren’t right.
The bêtes noires of the popular site,
Trolls disseminate venom and spite.
Most are sad, lonely pricks,
With pea brains and small dicks,
Anf their futures are even less bright.
Sorry to repeat, but it turned into a twofer.
The bêtes noires of the popular site,
Trolls disseminate venom and spite.
Most are sad, lonely pricks,
With pea brains and small dicks,
And their futures are even less bright.
They were probably blighted when young;
It’s their parents deserve to be hung.
“Should be ‘Hanged’!” Yes, I know.
It don’t rhyme. Apropos,
If it weren’t for the rhyme, they’d be strung.
My life changed when night-vision came in –
Even with that green tinge on the skin.
Now I’m stealthy at night,
And can keep out of sight,
And I know what they mean by, ‘Win-Win!’
“The director called, “Wrap!” for the night.
Then discovered the scene wasn’t right.
We all groaned. We were dead.
He took pity and said,
‘Get some sleep, then we’ll shoot it on site.’”
Facts about toddlers (plural modifying another plural)
Sweet toddlers are never malicious.
Their questions are quite repetitious.
And when they’re around,
And you don’t hear a sound,
You sense that there’s something suspicious.
Facts about my sweet little lamb
My little lamb always sleeps tight.
Falls asleep when I turn off the light.
Eats breakfast of hay;
Then goes out to play.
Watches videos, loves ewe tube site.
We did it for him and for her —
to vacations with kids I refer.
Crowded zoos, water slides,
endless gut-wrenching “rides” —
now it’s all just a stinky wet blur.
She went to the party that night
Which rendered a frightening sight.
Those drinks were unkind;
When awakened, she’d find
Steve Bannon by dawn’s early light.
“She was something to see – a delight.
A true vision! A feast for the sight.
Six cold beers on a tray,
“Second round’s on its way,
And the burgers and fries – that all right?”
We’re stuck with a child who’s a brat;
He’s constantly stoking a spat.
One day we’ll be rid
Of this horrible kid;
And thanking Joe Biden for that.
The baboon met one night on a date
The gorilla his dreams. It was great!
He went ape at her sight
‘Cause he knew that she might
Be the one he would call his prime mate.
Imagine this glorious sight:
We’re rid of our national blight,
With payment begun
For the damage he’s done;
Trump’s perp walk makes everything right.
I had chiggers. They started to bite
As they burrowed down deep, out of sight.
From my ankles to belt
I was one giant welt.
Was it itchy? Perhaps just a mite.
Looking back, I now see that fore-sight
Is the one thing I should have got right.
All the guilt and the shame –
Not to mention the blame –
All avoided. I need a rewrite!
Completely and utter? You’re downright!
A stick up your butt? Means you’re uptight!
But if you say, “I know –
Did I not tell you so?”
A pain in the ass who has hindsight.
Apologies for reposting the first of these. Please delete the previous version so as to avoid annoying Suzanne. Thank you.
“Looking back, I now see, with some foresight
I’d have steered a course nearer to ‘Do right!’
Far less guilt, much less shame –
Not to mention, no blame;
I submit my petition to rewrite.”
Psychoanalysts claim inner sight;
They can probe where neurotics take fright.
Terrors haunting our sleep
Are brought up from the deep;
Dragged from darkness, they shrink in the light.
Going Off Piste!
Is that it, then, Suzanne – chocolate cake?
Well, it’s not what you’d call an earthquake!
Chocolate fuddled your brain?
Or been sectioned? “Insane!”
Give us something inane – for Foulkes sake!
“Play Dates”
The rules are much different today;
(Carried out in a more distinct way).
The kids need to learn
That their parents are stern,
And make all the appointments to play.
“Pandemonium! Hullabaloo!
It’s the sort of thing children will do.
Not for them slowing down,
So, don’t bother to frown;
If they’re bothersome, tell them to, ‘Shoo!’”
Now here are some obvious clues,
(Which call for a tad bit of booze:)
You hear you kids freaking,
And then hear them shrieking,
(It must be the night for shampoos.)
KIDS?
“Mum and Dad are so old! It’s high time.”
‘Not to do it would be the true crime.’
“They get three meals a day,
And we don’t have to pay.
They can take them today – it’s sublime!”
Mum and Dad overheard every word;
Thought the notion, quite frankly, absurd.
Dad was aged forty-two
And, as far as he knew,
Mum would be forty, too, on the third.
That their kids were precocious … but still!
Their mistake was in making the will.
They had transferred their power
To the kids, for an hour;
At which point, things turned sour – as a dill!
Solution:
Join the SKI* club and never look back!
If it’s spent, they’ve no reason to sack. (Pillage)
They will cope! After all,
That’s what you did – recall?
They’ll be far better off if they lack.
* (Spend the Kids’ Inheritance)
Dyllis Cosgrave professed second sight.
For a long time, it worked best at night.
Then one day, she foresaw
What for her was in store.
From that day she foreswore. She’s all right!
The Republican Convention
The Trumps will be soon trotted out.
Of course I will watch, I’m devout.
And I’ll scratch and I’ll fight
Or I’ll hide out of sight
For one look at Melania’s pout.
He told the girl, “You’re quite a sight
And I’d sure like to do you all night.”
She smiled, “I’m surmising,
But I’d find it surprising,
If you’d last ten minutes, but you might.”
She’s a glorious, heavenly sight;
When I see her, my fancy takes flight.
How delighted I’d be
If she’d lie down with me!
Sad to say, though, my chances are slight.
Much to Rev. Falwell’s chagrin,
We’ve learned he’s been swaddled in sin.
But unlike Jesus’ plight
At the Bethlehem site,
There was room for a trois in the inn.
Caught in the sharp-shooters sight
Trump’s ducking with flimflam and sleight.
No matter he’s trying
He still keeps on lying
And thinks he has some God given right.
We know some of Donald Trump’s kin
Say that he’s guilty as sin.
Just some sibling fight
Or do they have some in-sight
And are working to stop a poll win?
“Comely wench, for sore eyes, you’re a sight!
I’m afeared that thou mayest be sprite.”
“No, indeed, sir! I’m real –
By all means, cop a feel.
Oh, my lord! Thou art derring, Sir Knight!”
If you’re derring, then by all means, do!
“Comely wench, for sore eyes, you’re a sight!
I’m afeared that thou mayest be sprite.”
“No, indeed, sir! I’m real –
By all means, cop a feel.
Oh, my word! Thou art derring, Sir Knight!”
“’T is a while since … please, mistress, don’t scold.
I had thought me alone on the wold.
I was not coping well,
By myself, truth to tell;
Now you’ve happened along, I’m consoled.”
“No apology needed, Sir Knight.
I, like you, am bereft of delight.
We are fortunate, Sir,
That our needs so concur;
Do be derring some more, it’s all right!”
“’T is a kind wind that blew you my way.
Let us stroll over here, to the hay.
I shall plight thee – Odds strewth!
Thou art eager, forsooth!”
“And thou wordy, Sir Knight! Let us play!”
Mrs Binns, all agreed, looked a fright!
She’d been sat up in curlers all night.
Mister Binns knew his fate –
She was way past irate –
And, discreetly, remained out of sight.
“Mister Binns! Stop your skulking this inst’!”
Every man held his breath, and some winced.
“There are cows in the shed,
And the kids to be fed,
Come out now or you’re dead!” She convinced.
(Guess who)
OK, here they go – what a sight!
The angle of view is just right.
I’m starting to spy
On my wife with that guy,
And feeling so onesome tonight.
If You’re Derring … Continuation.
“Well, Sir Knight! You’ll be grieving no more.
Thinkest thou we might even the score?”
“Prithee, Mistress, thy name?”
“Don’t be coy! You’re too tame!
Let us finish our game – Eleanor.”
Epilogue …
Should you happen to visit the site,
You will see that the knight got to plight.
From his loins may have sprung
A small army of young,
As his lady oft claimed her delight.
Hi Mad – in line 5 of my posting above, could you please replace”getting”
with “feeling”.
Thanks, Dave
*****
Done.
The RNC’s back on tonight;
Another inglorious sight
Where everyone brays
And blathers the praise
With all of their butt-smooching might.
There’s no bigger historical slight,
In our country’s or even God’s sight,
As that happened to me,
Which you plainly did see,
When they said drinking bleach wasn’t right.
To all you electoral chancers,
No one has all of the answers,
So best keep in sight
And don’t treat as trite
All of their lifestyle enhancers.
2020 Republican National Convention
For four nights we will lie,
Saying things that are pie-in-the-sky,
Using all of our might
And not losing sight
That this effort is our last do or die.
After seventeen pints of home-brew,
Gaylord’s vision was somewhat askew.
Ghoulies, beasties and wight
Were a regular sight,
But the Genie was certainly new.
“I’ve three wishes, you say? Well, that’s ripe!
Stop conforming to stereotype!
Why not turn things around?
Mix it up and confound!
What was that? Yes, how foolish. That’s tripe.”
When he woke the next morning, Gaylord
Found himself in a hospital ward.
How he got there … a fall?
Nope! He couldn’t recall,
But good heavens! The size of his sword!
“Now, then, children, you know what we say
To our guest who has come here today.”
Billy Suggs, classroom fool,
Who loves playing it cool,
Said, “He’s boring, Miss. Send him away!”
Mad, would you change the last line of the above, please, to:
Said, “He’s boring, Miss. Send him away!”
Thank you.
****
Done.
SITE/SIGHT & CHILDREN
Trump lives in a House that is White
Which seems an appropriate site.
If we painted it black
He’d be easier to track
If we needed to keep him in sight!
But decades ago as a child
To his classmates he seemed much more mild
With the passage of time
He’s become less sublime
So that now he is frequently riled.
Thank you. LOL
He sobbed with a pain so exquisite
that the Martian Mom said, “Son, what is it?”
“On the Beamer last night
from Earth’s Lunatic Site —
The Trumps said they’re coming to visit!”
Have you heard the joke about the farmer and the travelling salesman, where the farmer says, “…but you’ll have to sleep with me and my wife…”?
When Farmer was out like a light
His Missus undressed in plain sight.
She slipped into bed,
Came closer and said,
“Please plow my south forty tonight!”
I whispered as I held her tight,
“I’ll sow some wild oats with delight!”
But Farmer awoke,
Did not see the joke…
Let’s say I was soon out of sight!
Like Father?
“Now, then, children, you know what we say
To our guest who has come here today.”
Billy Suggs, ultra-cool,
Who loves playing the fool,
Said, “He’s boring, Miss. Send him away!”
“William Suggs! You know quite well that’s rude!
We won’t tolerate that attitude.
Now, get out of my sight!
Tell your father I’ll write.”
“That’s all right, Miss. He’ll tell you, ‘Get screwed!’”
Some have said that he did it from spite.
Others think it was fair. “He’d the right!”
But the truth is bizarre,
And more shocking by far;
“He said, ‘Shoot!’ when I think he meant, ‘S%ite!’”
Lovely Venice in May’s quite a sight.
The canals are a splendid delight.
But the one thing that’s bad
Which will make you real sad
Is it stinks to high hell. What a fright!
Like Father?
“Now, then, children, you know what we say
To our guest who has come here today.”
Billy Suggs, ultra-cool,
Who loves playing the fool,
Said, “He’s boring, Miss. Send him away!”
“William Suggs! You know quite well that’s rude!
We won’t tolerate that attitude.
Now, get out of my sight!
Tell your father I’ll write.”
“Up to you, Miss. He’ll tell you, ‘Get screwed!’”
Billy Suggs: you might think, “Doomed to fail!”
You’ll have already put him in gaol.
But the lad was no chump;
Changed his name to D. Trump
So, the next time you see him, “All hail!”
Mad, apologies for the repetition. Do, please, delete the previous posts where necessary. Thank you.
**********
I’ll be happy to, if you provide the date and time of posting those posts. I don’t have the time to hunt for them. Thanks.
OR
Lovely Venice in May’s quite a sight
The canals are a splendid delight
But the stink is so bad,
It will sure make you sad
And your nostrils will never be right.
“OK son, it’s time for The Talk;
I think we should go for a walk.”
“Hey Dad, maybe we
Can just watch Cardi B;
Then tell me what ‘WAP’ means in shock”.
It has been conservatively reckoned
Trumps attention span is one second
Based on his sight
Of the Fox News sound-bite
And the flipping of topics that beckoned.
America will never be great
Driven by greed, envy and hate.
We must change our sight
And start doing right
Right now before it’s too late.
If you think that you can’t, you are right.
Of this fact you must never lose sight.
The obvious plan
Is to think that you can,
And the chances increase that you might.
There’s some people that you can’t trust,
Who go out all rip, shit and bust…
He got rid of the rats,
The mice and fat cats.
But the kids? Now we’re a little bit fussed.
When I was young we made snowmen
With a nose surpassed by no men
Now as the genders are equal
Then an apt fitting sequel
Is have all the kids making snwomen
Can you parents really not spot it
Your child just hasn’t got it.
No matter how much you pay,
The same it will stay,
Admit it and then please do drop it.
Of thunder and lightening and rain
Only the last one remain.
The storm is quite mild
Without the Wild Child
Oh Thor, please come back again.
The sage said the following koan,
“You’re still a child who has grown.
You’ve been taught many things
That true wisdom brings
But still quote words that cannot be known.”
As children we had a stall,
The summer’s thirst to forestall.
I don’t know what we made
But it weren’t lemonade
And seems it food-poisoned us all.
“Please help!”, cried the herm-aphro-dite,
“No longer can I stand the sight,
Of two types of organ,
I’m worse than a Gorgon,
Please blow one off with gelignite!”
“I’ve come to release”, said the knight,
“Excalibur from this here site”,
So, he jumped in the lake,
Och, his armour was fake,
Well, his last words, I think, were “Good Night!”
I was about to apologize for language. Then, I thought “Why should I”?
Let me put it this way:
What’s rong with the speling of armor,
Can’t help it! (the son of a farmer),
Did u getta shock,
When I used the “Och?”,
But, “Och” is just “But”, feck the grammar!
I lied. My Dad was not a farmer. Och, his dad was.
Och
Ach
‘tis a Gaelic word, much used in Scotland and the upper northern half of Ireland when people speak in English. It can mean different things – like “But”, “ However”, “well”, “Mmmm”, “Arragh”, “Not sure”, “Not committed”,
“Who cares”!
Tim,
I laughed at the Snowemon. Very clever, indeed.
John C.
Good man Larz, you were so tight,
You failed to come right on the night,
Your girlfriend was sober,
Your innings was over,
When Daddy came home outta sight!
Dear Tony, you talk the bulloney,
Go home, for I think you’re a phoney,
Do you hail from Ennis,
Or Italy’s Venice,
I no wanna you as a homey!
The surgeon said, “Something’s not right.
You’re thirty, and this is your plight?
Lie down and relax.
I’ll remove cataracts,
And then you’ll be clean out of sight.”
Dear John …
Hoots, John! Quite an entrance ye’ve made!
Not a mon to be hugging the shade.
I’m half Celt from the Vales;
Seems my Da was from Wales.
But why ‘Phoney’? I’m feeling betrayed.
When he drew himself up to full height,
He became a formidable sight.
Four feet two in high heels,
He stepped lively in reels,
And would sing dirty ditties when tight.
Hey Tony! 👍,
Sorry for outburst, dear Tony,
‘tis I, ‘tisn’t you who’s the phoney,
There’s truth in the rumour,
You’ve great sense of humour,
Unlike my past wife, Ali Mony!
Not at all! There’s no need to repent.
I was sure that I need not resent.
You’re a banterer, too,
So, I’ve taken to you;
From the Highlands ye’ve come, Heaven sent.
Dear John, whilst I would never presume to criticise a man’s wife, ex or otherwise, it did occur to me that you might have missed out the ‘a’ in ‘money’. Just a thought. LOL
For John
“Aye, yon Scotsman’s a braw mon the noo!
He’ll toss cabers and throw hammers, too.
With his kilt buckled tight,
A magnificent sight!
And each fist holds a can of Irn-Bru
The current Limerick-Off ends tomorrow, Saturday, at 4 pm (Eastern time.) So please get your limerick stragglers in.
When the children play hopscotch, it’s fine.
That’s a game I don’t like to malign.
It’s okay if they stay
In their yard when they play,
But my driveway’s where I draw the line.
He went to a strip club that night;
Some fantasies yearning for flight.
Then down by the front,
Putting cash in the hunt;
With hind his preferred kind of sight.
“All you fireworks people will pay!”
bellowed Trump at the end of the day.
“My great name — what a sight! —
in the heavens at night.
So, which dumbass forgot ‘Donald J’?”
With soul music reaching its height,
James Brown had a hit – “Out of Sight”.
That’s back in the day;
Now we’re happy to say:
That “Uptown Funk” got it just right!
Hi Mad – in my “strip club” post above, would you please replace the word “form” with “kind” in line 5.
Thanks, Dave
**************
Done. Good choice for an internal rhyme. :)
Tony,
Thanks for tip. I know. It struck immediately after posting the drivel that “Moany” would have been so much funnier. It would also help emphasive the unimaginable perception that I am a dreadful “ass In the pain”.
Anyhoo, I enjoyed the Scotsman limerick immensely. I just read it tonight. It’s been a hard day’s night and I could do wi’ a can o’ Irn-broo.
My wife is a know-all, she’s right,
She’s hard to please – awful uptight,
Complains I’m too soon,
(Can’t help it! – I swoon),
So, my new fad is bad for eye-sight!
You married me just to be rich,
My lawyer says: “Time to unhitch”,
My infected site,
As result of your bite,
Will ruin you in court, you fat lady!
For Tony’s delectation:
Prince Charlie met Archie McDonald,
And sniggered and blurted, while coddled,
“I dare say your sporran,
Will heat and then burn”,
As he tickled and fervently fondled!
The shock of Sir Laurence Olivier,
With a man with his face in his derrière,
I cringed at the sight,
And cried, taking flight,
“And don’t say he’s just a sommelier!”
John,
Gosh, John! That Irn-Bru really takes its toll, doesn’t it? Only slightly less potent than LSD to judge by the above – which had been chuckling for several minutes, by the by. Cheers, mate!
Thanks to you, John, I’m Scottish – “Awright!?”
I’ve played, “Sunshine On Leith” through the night.
Breakfast? “Mars bars – deep-fried!
Can’t do Haggis – I’ve tried –
Then some heavy – kept handy on site.
I’ve entered a Scottish phase – all your fault. I do this every now and again. Next up for me today, Kevin Bridges – after I’ve played The Proclaimers a few more times. LOL
“Can I have your name and address?”,
Asked the Judge, “before you confess”,
(S)he said: “Freda stroke Dwight,
From the Freetown Camp-site,
And, of course Hon, for you I’ve a dress!”
Greetings again, Tony.
I’ve just seen your posts. Very entertaining indeed.
I admit I went a wee bit O.T.T. On the Irn-bru!
Not at all P.C. I spose Doggerel Licence is my “Get outa Jail Free Card”.
Keep ‘me comin’. Haste ye back!
I love Scotland too.
Keep ‘em coming.
NOT what what printed in error!!!
🥵
Tony, we might be on thin ice.
We shouldn’t be meeting like this,
Or Mad May present us a kiss,
Of death and expulsion,
For causing revulsion,
To others who hate our remiss!
He was Trumplet when young
And his praises were quite often sung
But now he’s mature
We avoid him, for sure.
‘Cos he’s fearful when using his tongue!
Fear ye not, they’re a tolerant lot –
Though Suzanne can get bothered – she’s hot!
Are we ‘having amiss?
Will Mad blow us a kiss?
From experience, probably not.
As fer keepin’ ye ‘comin’, my lad,
Sigmund F might be asking, “Your Dad –
Boxing gloves every night?
“Ah’m protectin’ yer sight!”
Makin’ up fer lost time – the new fad?
I’m thinking you must hail from the Hebrides, John. You can’t be from Glasgow, you’re much too sensitive and refined. (No offence to Glaswegians. I’m thinking Rab C, here.)
(true story… but I’m still undecided when it comes to the last line…)
I just CAME back from camping last night
Where I went was a beautiful sight.
I came home, hit the sack,
Thought, “One day I’ll go back”
So tomorrow I’ll pack, then take flight.
He’s ablaze. It was love at first sight
When a gal set his heart full alight.
But it pains him to think
That she’s now in the clink
‘Cause she torched his house too. She ain’t right.
Hey, Suzanne! You’re a sight for sore eyes!
You’ve been camping? Get bitten by flies?
I’ll fill in repartee:
“There are no flies on me!
I’m repellent by nature – poor guys.”
Hey, Suzanne! Did the midges not bite?
Were you covered in lotion at night?
“No, the midges evade
Without chemical aid:
There’s no need, I repel them on sight.”
Thought I ought to stay on piste. Don’t want you telling me off on your forst day back, now, do I? X
Mr. Shakespeare-on-Steroids Sir Holmes
I have read all your numerous poems.
Though your words on this site
Have a humorous bite,
They’ve turned into some frightful rhizomes.
Dont inCLUDE me in Irv’s pervy group
It just SOMEhow reeks strongly of poop
An unflattering sight
For my name to be blight,
You have got to stop citing that loop.
Then your mischievous tongue strikes again
With my name, just to rattle my chain!
On Mad’s page I won’t fight
It’s too sacred a site
I’ll just laugh (with a slight bit of pain).
Though I don’t really want to admit
That my fiery passions are lit
By your verses as such
You’ve a certain nice touch
But your words are too much! (just a bit).
I’ve two children; I’ve raised them the same.
They’re like DAY and night (who is to blame?)
The first one’s a saint
But the second one ain’t
More than once made me faint, brought me shame.
Though my mothering skills I’ve perfected,
Her dad’s genes came through undetected.
She’s the anti-christ beast
(Thats okay, she’s out east)
Far away, so at least I’m protected!
I’m so glad that you’re back in the game!
Did my ‘Chocolate Cake’ put you to shame?
You were absent from site,
As though you’d taken fright,
And weren’t up to the fight, hence your name.
And dear Irving was not the bad guy.
He was deep undercover. No, Cy –
He who showed him the sights,
And the pervy delights –
Is the one to defame and decry.
Now I’ve got you inflamed, I shall fan!
Sorry, Suze, but I’m that sort of man.
With my bellows on ‘High’,
All my wiles I’ll apply,
And keep going as long as I can.
Thanks so much everyone for another fun two weeks of limericks. This Limerick-Off is officially over. And the winner is…
Limerick-Off Award 451. Congratulations to the winners!
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Wine.