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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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Christmas is upon us
'Oh no it's not!' we shout Oh no it's not.
oh poop. I've glow-wormed rather than limericked. Ignore my post.
"'Tis! 'tis!" responds the chorus It was glow-wormed from the start

Software - Now Christmas is soon upon us
Penelope - 'Oh no it is not!' what's the fuss
Raak - "'Tis! 'tis!" all in chorus
Santa - My brains may be porous
Moniker - I refuse these five lines to discuss.
Or:
Christmas is upon us
"Oh no it's not!" we shout
"'Tis! 'tis!" responds the chorus
So that all came to nowt
There once was a Limerick class,
For the bad rhyme and rhythm dumbass
When it came to the test
They duly confessed
'Twas unlikely their scansion would pass
Inspired by the moon, as I am
To snort and to rut like a ram
On this cloudy night
I gave Boris a fright
And stole his tart filled with yam.
Hidden textNot a great line but...
Today is the day when it's done
I've dared be tattooed with a pun
This indelible mark
Is a jolly good lark
And a tribute to my only sun
Jacob the Third from Dunlevy
Drove round the block in his Chevvy
His miles-per-gallon
Hidden textBroke this small poem

Hidden textAnd now it just won't rhyme at all 8o)

Impressed Jimmy Fallon
But the rhymes that he chose were not clevvy Dunlevy? Chevy? Purlease!!! *repeats rant about poor rhyming and scansion from MCiOS*
[pen] It's enough to make one go out on a bevvy.
(Raak) I need little persuasion.
There's a man outside with a beard
And a cap with three bobbles so weird
He says he's from Spain
And arrived on the train
And he'll stay till the weather has cleared.
[pen]
Hidden text"But were poor 'cos the car was so heavy" was ringing in my ears when I wrote the American talk-show host into the rhyme.
My brother is sporting a hat
In which he just looks a twat (Phil) I'm sure he's not.
Hidden textHe's not, but he does look one in the hat. I saw a photo on facebook this morning, and that was precisely the 2nd line I had in mind
With his knob-ended cane
And arched eyebrow so vain
He looks smart but is still the same brat.
My cuckoo clock seem to be hatching
A plot for a plague that's so catching
The mould in its thatch
Is almost a match
For the lepidote nose you've been scratching.
[Chalky] Thank you for the new word I have learned today.
The lexicographical treasures
Onomatopoetical pleasures
Neological joys
Of semantical toys
To be found in thrasonical measures.
Let us dabble and stolch in the wood
And not do the things that we should
Let us shout, run and laugh
With the riff and the raff
Rob the poor - let's get rich, understood...?
I wonder who's kissing her now?
Probably death - poor cow.
And also who's teaching her how
To make our rhyme scheme more lowbrow
There once was a withered old rose
Whose weak mind was set writing prose
And the non-scanning lines
Gave no points only fines
And the reason for this no one knows…
I still wonder but will never know
Just where did my other sock go?
It's gone - it's a myst'ry
That stocking is hist'ry oblig.
I'll wear odd'uns - d'yer think it'll show?
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