arrow_circle_left arrow_circle_up arrow_circle_right
The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
help
And so it begins....
arrow_circle_up
Or your face with clay smeared
Won't hide that you've ate all the pies
"Shall we move a bit nearer the fire?"
"The heat will inflame our desire"
"But what if the glow.. unfin
Starts to melt my big toe?"
Wouldn't that just be too dire?"
All Hallow's Eve was a treat
Except for my melted feet
i walked through the flames
'Cos it's one of my aims
My footprints to set on Fleet Street
A new president has been elected
His cabinet will soon be selected
And Hil'ry, no doubt It has been established in another place that non-smutty limerics rarely rhyme or scan properly
Will not be left out -
Thank goodness that Palin's rejected
A wind of change blows from the East [i,R,K,J,S] Bravo! Most salient
As bakers bake breads without yeast
Mamas noodles we cook
Into sticky gook
That's the supper that we like the least
A shortage of eager lim'rickers
A surfeit of scansion nitpickers
Some grammar pedants
Repeating their chants:
"Indefensible mouse-clickers."
So what makes a humorous rhyme?
And are limericks on the decline?
Then again, clerihews
Have been making the news
For their value is rarely, if ever, revealed in the length of the ultimate line.
While scoffing a large box of chocs
I decided to take off my socks
They smelled like old cheese
Which caused me to wheeze
And cough up a collection of rocks.
Last night while I lay in my bed
I pondered the book I'd just read
The hero, I'm sure,
Was no epicure
Subsisting on baked beans and bread.
My first is in bed and asleep Limeriddles, or something. Or not.
My second is still counting sheep
My third's a surprise
And my fourth does arise
And of the fifth, you won't hear a peep I think we were all stumped on that one. Moving along now...
While I was putting the lights on my tree Xmas theme.
I felt a sharp pain in my knee
Oh, my patella
Get me codeine, young fella
And watch my low limb swinging free (below the knee that is...)
The fluff of my navel is gone
Thanks to this invent-ion
It sucks up the lint
Leaves the fragrance of mint
A cosmetic sine qua non.
When you've got to the top of your game
You should quit well before you're thought lame
For an ageing has-been
Should never be seen
As a resplendent pantomine dame
At Christmas we eat and we drink
But sometimes I have a deep think
My kids then say "Dad,
How much gin have you had?"
Was it Gordon's? Or p'raps was it pink?"
It's almost two-thousand-and-nine
The year of both roses and wine (hopefully)
And juxtaposition
Though price of admission,
Is more than its worth every time
There was a young lad from Bordeaux
Who crossed a Cabernet grape with a Gordo
The juice, when fermented, [irach] I'm reporting you to the Scansion Commission
Made drinkers demented
And girls, though quite chaste, set aglow
A scansion policeman named Bob
Was really quite keen on his job
To such an extent
('bout 200 percent)
That a few syllables he would rob
arrow_circle_down
Want to play? Online Crescenteering lives on at Discord