My wife is a Lady, I think, Cause her knickers are narrow, and pink On the rim there is lace, On the bottoms a trace, Of the finest of beaver and mink.
On the ides of March Caesar was slain "Et tu, Brute!" he cried out in vain But Mark Antony knew How the public to woo The conspirators died for their gain.
Here's one I wrote on the Google game at MCiOS, in response to "beer limericks". On the thirty-first day of December I drank seventeen pints of Knee-Trembler(I had to -- any less wouldn't scan) I then climbed a tree And took a long pee That was certainly one to remember!
Off the top of my head, as a month has passed: When I hear Lenny Henry (that crooner) Say a word like "safari", I'd sooner, That a language so maimed By a Brummie, be named "Dudley Bantu" by Reverend Spooner.