Limerick
Miffy
Shipmate
in The Circus
There once was a shipmate called Miffy,
Signed to NaPoWriMo in a jiffy.
Write a poem a day,
In a nonchalant way,
This is fair set to drive me all squiffy.
Over to you…anything you want (within the bounds of the Ship commandments, of course)
[nb Hosts: not intended as a ‘homework’ thread; I’m just letting off steam here]
Signed to NaPoWriMo in a jiffy.
Write a poem a day,
In a nonchalant way,
This is fair set to drive me all squiffy.
Over to you…anything you want (within the bounds of the Ship commandments, of course)
[nb Hosts: not intended as a ‘homework’ thread; I’m just letting off steam here]
Comments
There was a old lady called Miffy
Of cookies she wasn’t too sniffy
Choc Mars Bars were melting
And iced biscuits helping
To finesse her diet plan; it’s swishy. *
* well, you try finding a rhyme that makes sense.
Who fell into a barrel of whisky
He shook and he sneezed
He licked and he wheezed
And departed decidedly squiffy
Wrote limericks though didn’t hav’ta
‘Bout a black cat named Frisky
Who drank too much whisky*
Much merriment managed to capture
*really am scraping the bottom of the barrel here
Just a poem to read and relate
to whatever you want
whether metre or font
We don’t wish you to get in a state
Be it a state that is near or is far.
At least we pay taxes
and sometimes send faxes
if the council's mind's doors are ajar.
(Ok, that was laboured. But perhaps so is the Council.)
Who fell down a privy and died.
Along came his brother
And fell down another,
So now they're interred side by side.
There was a young lady from madras
Who had the most beautiful ass,
No not what you think,
Round, dimpled and pink !
It was grey, had long ears and ate grass.
Got stung in the arm by a wasp
When they asked “did it hurt.”
He said “yes it did
But I’m glad it wasn’t a hornet”
Who went in for his final exam.
When he asked "Have I passed?"
They said "No, you were last".
So he turned on his heels and said "Gentlemen, you surprise me".
I think that's even older than the fellow called Hyde and the young lady from Madras.
There was a young woman called Eve,
Whose creation you wouldn’t believe:
I tell you no fib,
She was made from a rib,
According to the tale we receive.
Here's one I've quite enjoyed, and which must be from the 1970s (or earlier):
There was a young man at the zoo
Who wanted to catch the 2.02.
When he came to the gate
They said 'You must wait.
It's a minute or two to 2.02.'
There was a young lady from Ryde
Who ate a green apple and died.
The apple fermented inside the lamented
And made cider inside her inside.
A husband there was from Chennai,
Who was utterly unable to lie.
When asked does my tum,
look too large, or my bum,
He'd look high aloft with a sigh.
Whose limericks stopped at line two.
But he wasn’t caring…
Who always ate soup with a fork.
For he said *Since I eat
Neither fish, fowl, nor flesh,
I should otherwise finish too quick.*
(I think he may have been related to @Spike's young man from Dundee...)
Whose voice just got higher and higher,
Till one Sunday night,
It flew quite out of sight,
And they found it next day on the spire.
There was a Young Lady of Tottenham,
Had no manners, or else she'd forgottenham.
At tea at the vicar's,
She tore off her knickers,
Because (as she said) she felt hottenham.
Who didn't really get rhymes
His scansion was also
Nowhere to be seen
So he didn't write anything you could really call a limerick at all.
Yes, but it's still good.
Not a proper limerick though, without the rhyming pattern
🤣
Whose
Do Ship rules allow this to be completed?
(A relative of the young man from Peru we had earlier)
Who liked to dress up in chiffon.
When he found that he had nothing on...
Sorry - The Muse is working overtime!
There was a young person from Greece
They all flew away
(alt. ending:
Which for him was a happy release...)
Umm…that was an aside, not part of the limerick!😁
He's got to be out for a duck.
What other rhymes could possibly have occurred to anyone?
(Sorry, in a fairly childish mood.)
Who wrote Limericks; that much is clear
But they weren't all that fine
And would repeat the first line
That Limerick writing fellow called Lear
Who wanted a baby by God
But it wasn't the Almighty
Who got up her nightie
But the verger, the randy old sod.