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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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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?
There's just enough time left I think
'Fore the cosmic heat-death, for a drink
A cocktail perhaps?
Or a sherry? Or schnapps?
Or maybe champagne that is pink?
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