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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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"You all share one eye!"
"Is it Cyclops I spy?"
Our collective look killed - now he's dead
On slaying a mythical beast
The druids decided to feast
On roast gryphon wings
Or cherubims rings coat!
Or the tail of a ferret at least
Impractical thoughts such as mine
Deal with thou beside me and wine
For this combination
- salacious libation -
The finger writes; having writ, dines.
There's no wind but we sail anyway
So far, we have not left the bay.
Becalmed as we are
We can't go very far
And we'll be in the doldrums all day
Suddenly, there's a hurricane......

We battle 'gainst wind, wave and foam

In quest of a land to call "home"
In the teeth of the gale
We shall always prevail
Till we settle and nevermore roam
I have something between my two legs
So ladies, hang on to your eggs!
Lest fertilisation (Phil) You're dir'y.
Should lead to gestation
You'll look like this pair of beer-kegs?
A girl in a suit can look dapper
Especially one who's a tapper (i.e. tap dancer)
But a man in a skirt
Who chances to flirt
Will never pull more than a slapper. Rather surpising that this one has hung around for so long so I've taken the liberty.
My gosh, it's already July! thank you, Rosie.
I'm late, I really must fly!
Heathrow, here I come
I'll fly to Dum Dum [Calcutta's airport, that is]
I prefer the monsoon to the dry!
If you start, then you've started - that's good.
If you haven't, I wish that you would!
If you're already done
Or perhaps you've just come
To a halt; well, you did what you could.
While turning gold back to base metal
I watched the gold dust neatly settle
Into ingots of lead
So I thought, but instead
I made tea from hot water in t'kettle
Enough is enough is enough
Especially if one's feeling rough
Then enough can return
From which I discern
I'll undress and post this in the bough.
I now have a vision of Raak Hope you don't mind us having a little sport, old bean.
But only if viewed from the back
When viewed from the front an early candidate for Feedline of the Month
(I'll just have to be blunt)
There's something he appears to lack no offence...
Penelope feareth no man
(Please keep it clean, if you can)
For her feminine wiles
May bring forth many smiles
As she's known for her famous can-can
I want you to tell me the truth
Are you Valerie, Mabel or Ruth?
It's so hard to tell
Which is which gel Don'cha know
"My name's Harry, a gender bent youth"
I'm afflicted with six insect bites
I've been tasted by fleas, ticks and mites
'Tis the swamp that they seek
But havoc they wreak
Is something my hygiene invites. Sniffs armpit - poo.
The present is never the present
It's past for cooked geese or cooked pheasant
What the future beholds
Influenza and colds no doubt
Seize the day, for this morning, 'tis pleasant.
Well, Elvis is dead - but alive
At least amongst those who can jive
But why do they wear
So much lard in their hair?
When will Grecian 2000 arrive?
A pack of the very best plugs
Costs more than its weight in hard drugs
They're more galvanising
So it's not so surprising
That they come recommended by Suggs
Are these 'mobile phone' gadgets a fad?
And do i-Pods turn good children bad?
Or are they besotted
Besmeared and tight knotted
This Hi-Tech will drive us all mad.
I look in the mirror. Who's this?
It's me? Your taking the piss!
I was young looking smart
And had mastered the art
Of toilet bowl game "hit or miss"
I once met a nun from Milan
Who wanted to start her own clan
Both Sisters and Brothers
And uncertain "others"
Said "Dad's a McLeod, and me gran". So the whole thing just went down the pan.
A tenor who sang in Modena
Perhaps should have been a bit leaner
With angels he's singing
Adagio, bringing
[Don't quite see why Marc's perfectly reasonable line should stall things for more than a week. It's not like the word 'singing' lacks rhymes …]
Huge joy in his heav'nly arena
... [SM] quite - I'm assuming lack of lean-ness equates to death-ness [angels]. Moving swifterly on ...
I'm not sure if I'll find the time
Or the inspiration sublime
To take part in this game ;-)
In the hope of great fame
And escape from my life's grit and grime
But fame will not change me a jot
At least, I assume it will not
But in the limelight
I will get the rhyme right!
And the scansion, and grammar, and plot.
A young lad from Lytham St Annes
Had a penchant for stealing white vans
Which he'd drive at great speed
While puffing some weed
And swigging cheap beer from its cans
I've just spent a week on the tube
And all rails I have greased with fresh lube
I've cleaned all the tiles
Overhauled the turnstiles
And swept up all hairs of the pube
While studying the surface of Mars
I observed some deposits of tars
Which made me examine
The dictionary to find another word to rhyme
The famine that's caused by catarrhs Tut tut...
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