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Limerick poems. Read, find, and share examples of Limerick poems by international web poets. These are the most popular and best examples of limerick poems. See also Limerick Quotes.

The following examples of Limerick poems illustrate what a Limerick poem looks like, and how they are constructed. The form or category is selected by the poet and thus may not be accurate.

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AT THE FOOTBRIDGE - LIMERICK COLLABORATION

At the footbridge Sue was meeting her beau (He was married to a woman called Flo) Sue soon found out his deception She dismembered his erection For his love life it was a massive blow To the hospital fled poor Rodger For an op to repair his todger Now fixed, it's SO big Rodger grunts like a pig in porn films as Rodger the lodger Inspired by but not for contest BY JAN ALLISON 7~18~16 He promised Flo he never would leave her And she would be his only receiver But she caught him with Sue And his chances were through Gnawing off wood when he neared her beaver WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH Sue castrated that cheating deceiver With one whack of her meat cleaver she pulled a Lorena Bobbit turned Rodger into a Hobbit Sue's now known as an "overachiever" WRITTEN BY MARTI SUTHERLAND Across the table sits sweet Amee Once A Roger, before he became a she The master of infidelity So many personalities Before and after he became an amputee.. WRITTEN BY SKAT A He was known as a terrible stoner With a huge un-deflatable boner It now sits in a jar At the end of the bar A reminder to all of its owner... WRITTEN BY JOHN LAWLESS It’s become a tourist attraction As a symbol of female subtraction Grannies sneak in for a peek Everyday of the week Dreaming of former of love action. WRITTEN BY MARK WOODS Oh how sad that pork missile should be unemployed but for all there to see if science, in a jiffy can rejuvenate stiffys then the first in the queue would be me! WRITTEN BY VIV WIGLEY Flo wanted to give Sue a high five For slicing Rodger with all his jive A two timing fool Who broke every rule Now lil Rodger don't work in overdrive WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y Rodger's story has been immortalized For having his thingy circumcised It's on display in a bar Now hanging in a jar While it's slowing becoming crystalized WRITTEN BY MARTI SUTHERLAND As she ponders on what to eat Hopefully, it won’t be red meat For there on the log Is Rodger's hot dog So she gets excited and jumps off her feet. WRITTEN BY WINGED WARRIOR There's a lesson I really must blurt To all those blokes out chasing some 'skirt' When you're on heat Don't share your meat 'Cause your todger might really get hurt! WRITTEN BY MARK WOODS Poor forgotten noteworthy Sue Looking so gloomy she blew At the pickled todger once belonging to Rodger kissing good times its last adieu WRITTEN BY EVE ROPER As "Rodger" snaked out of the door It went past a room on tenth floor. A woman therein Said "Come right on in." she kept screaming, "More, I want more! WRITTEN BY ANDREA DIETRICH After Sue chopped his tally-whacker Poor Rodger became quite the slacker He tried to bring his pecker forth Never again to be pointing north Now when he pees he sits on the crapper. He stopped at the house, the red-light was on Knocked on the door, the girls were all gone Stuck with his sawed-off boner Tonight He's going to be a loner Damn, why did the girls all have to be gone? BOTH POEMS WRITTEN BY JAMES ANDERSEN A group of limericks quite clever Began with one simple sever Of engorged penis which is, (between us), I think, a spicy endeavor WRITTEN BY H PENELOPE SWIFTLOCK There was perfection in his pecker, as a porn star he was a wrecker, but to his wife he was unfair, so she severed what was down there, now his only job is director. WRITTEN BY CASARAH NANCE Poor Rodger thought he was being slick when he carved out a handcrafted prick he rubbed his new attire his precious toy caught fire Now he is left with an ashen stick WRITTEN BY TEPPO GREN An ashen stick means man minus prick. Poor Rodger, now a eunuch, without a fix. He decided to become a transgender. Then off he went on a bender. Woke up married to a man from Bertrix WRITTEN BY JEAN MURRAY Rodger's new love was a prudish fox but for brains she had a head of rocks he splinted up his willy popsicle sticks look silly he said it was new and still in the box! WRITTEN BY SONNY ROPER (EVE'S HUBBY) To be fair "At the Footbridge" Now to be completely fair And to stop every persons stare Rodger was not actually circumcised As he was a player, so don’t be surprised This was from wear and tear and his willingness to share WRITTEN BY MARK PAUL VAN DER MERWE Now Rodger mostly stays home for lack of a viable bone. He reaches by habit down for his rabbit: he's got Phantom Willy Syndrome! WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART Rodger was a good friend of Eye Had a real hankering for cherry pie Tasted every chance he got And it would hit the spot Until his crazy wife made him cry WRITTEN ON 14TH JUNE BY EYE TRUTH TELLER Roger pretends that he's a sexy stud But when the ladies find out he's a dud they all laugh in his face anatomically a disgrace His manhood is referred to as "The Bud" WRITTEN ON 15TH JUNE BY LIN LANE Rodger thought his op was a success When he found he had more and not less But the surgeon's blind stunt Sewed it on back to front Well, he certainly lacks some finesse! WRITTEN ON 15TH JUNE BY RAY GRIDLEY As he crossed the footbridge, Georgie saw a duck Quite unique and raucous, it could quack AND cluck! (And did so incessantly) "Hey! Hey! It's all about me!" It loudly proclaimed, with much aplomb and pluck WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
I also wrote another poem but this one did not turn into a collaboration - if you read it you will see that it is quite different to my usual style https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/at_the_footbridge__2_822879

© JAN ALLISON . All Rights Reserved.


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JAN ALLISON has a Fan

JAN HAS A FAN


Jan Has no Tan

I once saw a gal called Jan
So sexy she made me ran
Straight to the vicar
Said marry us quicker
Whilst she drank her tea on the can


She is as White as pure Sand

I once met a gal in white dress
I fell straight in love I must confess
She was drinking her tea
While I stared at her knee
Surely my intentions she guessed


She Sips Her Tea Daily

I once met a gal drinking Tea
My heart was pumping in glee
From her nose to her toes
When she smiled I froze
So charming I become a devotee

While I Admire Her so Gayly

When I saw the lady in the white dress
My thoughts she I did undress
As she gazed out the window
She caught peeking Jimbo
Who was in quite the state of distress


I am a fan of the great poet Jan

There once was a gal who could fart
She refined it into an art
Her white dress in a breeze
Would lift till you sneeze
But she’ll always be my sweetheart




Notes: I just realized the title, as far as Jan is concerned , well could have a double meaning!

© Arthur Vaso . All Rights Reserved.


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A Desperate Housewife - in limerick form

A desperate housewife I knew
had such mundane housework to do.
Being so tired of it,
she decided to quit.
Then off to Las Vegas she flew.

Having always been such a lithe girl,
she thought “I’ll give dancing a whirl!”
Her audition went well.
From a large oyster shell
She emerged, so they all dubbed her Pearl.

Her skin, soft and fair, shone like dew
as she smiled with eyes crystal blue.
All the men threw her money
as her voice, sweet as honey,
called out, “Let me entertain you!”

As Pearl danced each night, looking pretty,
Her husband, back in her home city,
was fit to be tied,
thinking maybe she’d died!
Poor fool didn’t have a clue, did he!

Unbeknownst to sweet Pearl, her “dear” spouse
had been sneaking off as she’d played house.
To conventions he’d said
he was going. Instead,
he’d been gambling in Vegas, that louse!

Off to strip clubs he’d gone every chance
that he got. How he loved to see dance
naked women all sizes 
in sexy disguises
while his wife at home longed for romance.

Now the tables were very much turned.
And her husband was feeling quite spurned.
He would sleep restlessly
thinking where could she be!!
But her whereabouts he never learned.

No longer could he run away
on a whim. He still had bills to pay.
That cleaning and cooking
meant no time for looking
at girls! He had less time to play.

In Vegas, his wife had come far.
In fact, she was a superstar.
Wearing naught but a fan,
she’d entice every man,
then drive home in a pearl-colored car!

Her spouse lost his job. The years fled.
His wife he then had declared dead.
But with no job in sight,
he’d stay home each night,
with loneliness causing him dread.

Do you think this guy ever has let
his conscience feel any regret
that his wife did so much
while he gambled and such?
Has he learned anything at all yet?

Did he marry and get a new bride?
Did Pearl go and change her sweet ride
to a sleek red Corvette,
and did SHE marry yet?
I leave it to YOU to decide!


Written June 2016 for the Desperate Housewife Contest of PD

© Andrea Dietrich . All Rights Reserved.


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Looks Can Be Deceiving

There was a young girl whose silk skin
Was sewn up with some thread and a pin.
     It would drive the men mad,
     That sleek layer she had,
Well, until she took off her silk skin.

By Anne Currin

© Anne Currin . All Rights Reserved.


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His funeral

That he planned his funeral is factual
And being a prankster quite actual
He prerecorded his voice
So when we kneeled on the joist
He said, "Hi there! Don't I look natural."

© Judith Angell Meyer . All Rights Reserved.


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The Contest

(The Contest)

I once knew a gentle poet boy
Pretending to be the real McCoy
   He lost two in a row
   This is no game show
At the end, I felt used by the playboy


(The cold rain)

I wish I could take back the HM
Don't know why you chose to condemn
   I thought we were friends
   Now I see through crystal lens,
How you think all your poems are a top gem

(Not a reason to hate)

I once knew a girl with heavy makeup
Behind her smile, her face was corrupt 
   She was in it for the race
   Wanting all her poems to place
She did not win, now she's all worked up
    


SKAT

© SKAT A . All Rights Reserved.


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Gathering of the Golden Girls - Soup Convention

Four “Golden Girls” seated at a table
Grey streaks our hair, but minds remain stable
     Convention is underway
     Michael has something to say
He opens our meeting with a fable
 
It’s about a tortoise that beats a hare
Some of the “fast writers” begin to glare
     Joyce, Francine and Barbara know
     It takes time for verse to grow
We’re the queens of rewriting; this we swear
 
Iolanda’s introduced to read her book
“Lava of my Soul,” no gobbledygook
     We’re mesmerized by each line
     At the end we toast with wine
Joyce says, “Now those words took some time to cook.”
 
It’s Karen’s turn to read “Silent Whispers”
We see tears falling into John’s whiskers
     “Tears of joy,” Francine exclaims
     For Karen’s Best Seller fame
Applause rings out from grateful listeners
 
After the “meet and greet” it’s nearly dawn
The crowd starts to thin as our comrades yawn
     Joyce, Francine call it a night
     But Barbara still sits upright
We two remain when most others are gone
 
One poet called us “Late Night Cockroaches”
This indignity did not encroach us 
     We call ourselves “LNCs”
     Awake in wee hours with ease
Waiting for our princes to approach us
 
That’s when the James Brothers draw near
Peranteau and Fraser, to make it clear
     With two erotic writers
     LNCs pull “all nighters”
Knowing that we can propose; it’s Leap Year!
 
 
*Entry for Michael’s “A Table of Four” contest
At my table: Carolyn Devonshire
Joyce Johnson
Francine Roberts
Barbara Gorelick
 


© Carolyn Devonshire . All Rights Reserved.


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SPRING FORWARD

In spring time fresh flowers are rising New lambs in the fields – not surprising In every hedgerow and tree Lush beauty will surround me It’s heaven; there is no disguising 02~16~15 Contest: Spring Forward -Debbie Guzzi Syllables checked 9 9 7 7 9

© JAN ALLISON . All Rights Reserved.


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Finding BigFoot

For BigFoot I searched everywhere.
In all the Northwest, he’s not there!
Then I thought I might know
where a BigFoot might go . . .
so I went where the barbers cut hair!

To fit in and be like the rest
of us humans, he’d look his best.
so I went to each shop
where I thought he might stop
to have hair removed from his chest.

To Hollywood soon I was led.
I’d heard of a man with a head
like a wolf’s, full of hair,
making everyone stare.
What I found was Hugh Jackman instead!

Then a man I could not see too well
crossed my path at a fancy hotel.
When I got a good look,
that was all that it took!
It was furry but small, Steve Carell!

The last guy I saw in that land
of Hollywood stars acted grand.
That guy, very hairy
made Big Foot less scary.
He went by the name Russell Brand.

From Hasselhoff to Bradley Cooper,
some hairy guys are super duper!
I kept at my quest
when to the southwest
I moved, for I’m always a trooper.

I searched high and low, five years more,
but by then, I had grown very poor.
I had always liked shoes,
so thought I would choose
a job in a classy shoe store.

Like Carrie in “Sex in the City,”
I loved my work, and I looked pretty
with swank heels on my feet,
yet I felt incomplete
There was no Mr. Big! Such a pity!

But while working one day without care.
I looked up  Can you guess who was there?
This odd creature so tall
made Shaquille look too small.
And he hardly could hide all his hair!

No fresh smelling flower was he,
but kindly I sensed him to be.
As I stooped down to put
my hand on that Big Foot,
I knew fate had led him to me!

Written by Andrea Dietrich 







© Andrea Dietrich . All Rights Reserved.


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GIMME A BRAKE

A UFO went to land in Dakota
But the brakes didn't work one iota.
        It didn't take long
        to decide what was wrong
seems the space ship was made by Toyota!

© RALPH TAYLOR . All Rights Reserved.


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