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Multiple Lines Per Player: A Limericks Special Edition
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Here's an experiment with the Limerick form. In this game (and this one only) it is permissible for players to contribute more than one line each to each limerick, just to see if we can increase the level of coherence in this much-loved form as practised in the Morniverse. Everything else is the same as normal... Take it away!
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The one that belongs to Queen Liz
She guides them with grace
-hr
And by waving the mace
Then sends Raleigh to burn down Cadiz   (Assuming Liz I there).
'Twas said that The Spanish Armada
Should try just that little bit harder
Not to get their ships sunk
To haul gold, not just junk
And pay sailors much less than de nada
I'm roaring with agony, ruth,
And regret over this, my lost tooth
It'll teach me, they say
To brush every day
With a paste made from sand and vermouth (assuming you meant 'teach me' in a sense of don't do it again)
Brush your teeth at least twice every day
To prepare for a roll in the hay
It prevents halitosis
And ensuing psychoses
Caused by germs in brain matter that's gray
"Here's some work for my leedle grey cells"
Poirot said to the Bishop of Wells
"I really am clever
Because there is never ... open quote warning ...
Not a stiff for whom the bell tolls
I live as I do, no regrets
I have not one friend, and no pets
And yet, every night
To my utter delight
Playing poker alone, I win bets
I once met a practising priest
Who travelled some years in the East
Upon his return
He was interred in an urn
You see, he had come back deceased... what a morbid downbeat limerick...
Alas, poor cetation, thy tale
Besaddens me - I knew you, whale.
And Thames, be ye shallow
Not fertile, but fallow
Just bodes that your rescue will fail - I'm blubbing already
I'm Upbeat, I'm Bright and I'm Breezy
Hence penning a poem so cheesy
But things could be worse
Like a fairy tale curse
That morphs me into Dopey or Sneezy
Whenever I find that
                                  you're near
I run up to my room and chug beer
After three pints of mild
I blub like a child
Any more, and I'll feel a bit queer.
Forgot two at once.
Whenever I feel a bit queer
I go out and grab a quick beer
And once I am drunk
I behave like a punk
Dressed in chains and my new leather gear
I once saw a quack down in Staines
Regarding my varicose veins
He examined and poked
And prodded and stroked
Then said "
                It's a map of the drains."
[CdM] Hey, it doesn't say anything in the rubric about less than one line being permitted :P
The spanner I keep in my tights
Gives the ladies delectable frights
While my handy hacksaw
Makes them all beg for more
It's only the chisel that blights
When Henry was courting his Anne
She coyly snapped open her fan.
"If you wish to wed me"
"And will not behead me
"You certainly can be may man"
Those men borne in May has got all,
They’re rich has good looks, most are tall,
They marry nice wife
And they get jolly life
Unlike those poor sods born in fall
A beautiful creature, the swan
Is just an elaborate con
You stretch a duck's neck
Then lime it like heck
And place it in l’arte de salon
Enormously thankful I am
That you saved me from all of this spam
Now my mailbox is filled
With new spam that’s been grilled
So I am free to use my web-cam putting that one to bed ...
I tried to find ice rinks to skate
On a trip to the Orange Free State
But all I could find
Was the roller-skate kind
Which started a heated debate
I've lost all my will to survive
Perhaps it is time to contrive
A method; a date
A partner, a mate
Who can jack up my lousy sex drive
I once found an ingot of lead
Tucked under the sheets of my bed
This slab of pure plumbum,
The cause of my numb bum,
Now anchors the wardrobe instead
My sandwiches fell in the bin
And got covered in raw chicken skin
At risk of contracting
Intestine extracting
I gulped a huge barrel of gin
I fear that that these strict Muslim loons
Who get angry at simple cartoons
Will settle the score
By being quick on the draw
And send round al-Qaeda's goons.
In a hut in north-western Nepal
An idol adheres to the wall
His one little eye
Sheds a tear by-and-by
For the fate that must surely befall. gulp
A
sprightly
old
widow
in
Kent |
Gave up
as she
Hidden textHad problems with stretching her tent; She raised it and said; Reminds me of Fred; Intention was good but his pole Oh so bent)
(Hide tags added posthumously by rab)
Hidden text[Anonymous] Why not try the
Hidden text tags? ;-)
Oooh!
Hidden textChalky!
That's just too
Hidden textclever!
visited Ghent |
She'd lost all
her money,
On horses
and honey |
Now
she's
riding
bareback (gee, thx rab for your kind assistance!)
to pay rent oblig.
When writing invisible lines
Make sure that your sentence aligns,
There's such an edict-
The rules are quite strict
And breaking them may lead to fines
I once saw a ghost in the hall
Play lacrosse, with his head as the ball
And, in place of a stick
He was using his hand
As he whacked his own head off the wall
I once won a long game of Fives
On a journey I made from St Ives
I gave my opponent
One smashing component
Then chopped him alive with my knifes (tough game in St. Ives)
When cooking a spicy hot meal
Make sure to have chop-sticks of steel
A sealed horseradish flask
A masala gas mask
And tastebuds that have little feel
At last it is Valentine’s Day!
Prepared for a roll in the hay?
Or are you toute seule
The loneliest girl?
Whatever - save time and go gay!
Number one is the loneliest number
And alone is the loneliest slumber
So find number two
And make whoopee-doo
Nine months down number three you'll encumber
[P,D & i] Nice!
I get a peculiar feeling
Whenever I look at the ceiling
I find that its beams
Give me curious dreams
In which I hear the bells pealing
In a church on an isle in the Seine
Prays a man: "Dear Lord, tell me when
Will I understand why
Barbie passes me by
Just what does she see in that Ken?
There once was a virgin from Stowe
Who felt a great itch down below
This peculiar feeling
Though quite appealing
Would come and then go, come and go
There once was a pig in a poke
Who was handy a telling a joke:
He told one to me
And I laughed, Yes-sir-ee,
‘til my T bone and Pork bone was broke
There was an old Pharaoh of Thebes
Who was mad about Great Crested Grebes
He cared not a bit
For a Booby or Tit
As did (so they say), Ann of Cleves
When blue-footed boobies fly over
Or even a rare piping plover
Don't look to the sky
Just lower your eye
And hum to the tune of 'Wild Rover'
There once was a Rover who swore
That no never would he rove no more How folky am I? :-)
Though barely so spoken
His promise was broken
When he roved where he hadn't before
Digging in to a bowl of hot chili
I'd bought in the Isles of Scilly
I found a small lump
Looking just like a pump
But it tasted like shrimp-stewed Ram-Willie
*applauds the 'Rovers'*
The Rover's Return to the Inn
Was thus met with a quarrelsome din
As he retold his life
Came a shriek from his wife
- He'd stuck her, not the doll, with a pin.
A bishop, while studying voodoo
Found himself knee-deep in doo-doo
"Exorcise me!" he cried,
"for this demon inside
is nasty and pooey and crude, ooh!"
With just tuppence for paper and strings
You can make up your own pair of wings
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