There once was a man from Peru,
his limericks always end on line two.

There was a young lady of Cork,
Whose Pa made a fortune in pork.
He bought for his daughter,
A tutor who taught her,
To balance green peas on her fork.

There was an Old Person of Bangor,
Whose face was distorted with anger!
He tore off his boots,
And subsisted on roots,
That irascible Person of Bangor.

There was an Ol Man of Quebec,
A beetle ran over his neck;
But he cried, 'With a needle,
I'll slay you, O beadle!'
That angry Old Man of Quebec.

A newspaper man named Fling,
Could make "copy" from any old thing.
But the copy he wrote,
Of a five dollar note,
Was so good he is now wears so much bling.

Once I did hear my brother call
The sun a giant fire ball.
How can that be?
For what I see,
Is something up high so small.

I see it at the break of dawn,
When it announces the day is on.
Its brilliant gold,
A joy to behold,
And being outside is so much fun.

John might be right, for I must say,
The sun is not so cool at midday.
Its shining light
Is just so bright,
I have to pull my eyes away.

Evening comes and it's so strange
How the sun still appears to change.
No longer small,
A bigger ball.
Its tone, now a lovely bright orange!

This curious ball hanging up high,
For me, raises many questions why.
But when it shines,
Then life is fine.
Thank God the sun is in the sky.

(By Abimbola T. Alabi)

A canner, exceedingly canny,
One morning remarked to his granny.
A canner can can,
Anything that he can,
But a canner can't can a can, can he?.

There was a young person called Smarty,
Who sent out his cards for a party.
So exclusive and few,
Were the friends that he knew,
That no one was present but Smarty.

If a person would have several friends,
here's the thing upon which it depends;
are you willing to share
when there isn't much there
and burn up your day from both ends.

(By Steve Mckee)

There once was a wonderful star,
Who thought she would go very far.
Until she fell down,
And looked like a clown,
She knew she would never go far.

There was a Young Lady of Tyre,
Who swept the loud chords of a lyre;
At the sound of each sweep
She enraptured the deep,
And enchanted the city of Tyre.

There once was a man from kanass,
Who's nuts were made out of brass.
in stormy weather,
he'd clack them together,
and lightning shot out of his ass.

I once had a gerbil named Bobby,
Who had an unusual hobby.
He chewed on a cord,
and now -- oh my lord,
now all that's left is a blobby.

Amazingly, antelope stew,
Is supposedly better for you.
Than a goulash of rat,
Or Hungarian cat,
But I guess that something you knew.

There was an Old Person of Prague,
Who was suddenly seized with the Plague;
But they gave his some butter,
Which caused him to mutter,
And cured that Old Person of Prague.

There was an Old Man at a casement,
Who held up his hands in amazement;
When they said, 'Sir, you'll fall!'
He replied, 'Not at all!'
That incipient Old Man at a casement.

I'd rather have Fingers than Toes,
I'd rather have Ears than a Nose.
And as for my Hair,
I'm glad it's all there,
I'll be awfully sad when it goes.

There was a Young Lady of Wales,
Who caught a large fish without scales;
When she lifted her hook
She exclaimed, 'Only look!'
That ecstatic Young Lady of Wales.

There once was a colour named orange,

...Damnit.

There was an Old Person of Cadiz,
Who was always polite to all ladies;
But in handing his daughter,
He fell into the water,
Which drowned that Old Person of Cadiz.

There was a young lady named Perkins,
Who just simply lived on gherkins.
In spite of advice,
She ate so much spice,
That she ruined her internal working's.

There was a boisterous boy called Joe
Who loved to play in the fresh falling snow.
He went sledging one day
On his wild husky powered sleigh,
Tumbled tumultuously and broke his big toe.

There was an Old Person of Buda,
Whose conduct grew ruder and ruder;
Till at last, with a hammer,
They silenced his clamour,
By smashing that Person of Buda.

There once was a man from Nantucket,
Who kept all of his cash in a bucket,
But his daughter, named Nan,
Ran away with a man,
And as for the bucket, Nantucket.

One Saturday morning at three,
A cheese monger's shop in Paree.
Collapsed to the ground,
With a thunderous sound,
Leaving only a pile of de brie.

There was a Young Lady of Russia,
Who screamed so that no one could hush her;
Her screams were extreme,--
No one heard such a scream
As was screamed by that Lady from Russia.

There was an Old Lady whose folly,
Induced her to sit on a holly;
Whereon by a thorn,
Her dress being torn,
She quickly became melancholy.

A fellow jumped off a high wall,
And had a most terrible fall.
He went back to bed,
With a bump on his head,
That's why you don't jump off a wall.

There was a young woman named Jenny
Whose limericks were not worth a penny.
Oh, the rhyme was all right,
And the meter was tight,
But whenever she tried to write any,
She always wrote one line too many!

There was an Old Man of Leghorn,
The smallest that ever was born;
But quickly snapped up he
Was once by a puppy,
Who devoured that Old Man of Leghorn.

There was a Young Lady of Turkey,
Who wept when the weather was murky;
When the day turned out fine,
She ceased to repine,
That capricious Young Lady of Turkey.

A painter who lived in Great Britain,
Interrupted two girls with their knitting,
He said, with a sigh,
That park bench--well I,
Just painted it, right where you're sitting.

An elephant slept in his bunk,
And in slumber his chest rose and sunk.
But he snored -- how he snored!
All the other beasts roared,
So his wife tied a knot in his trunk.

There once was a poet named Bates
Whose limericks were never that great
His first lines weren't bad
But the problem he had
Was he always tried to fit way too many syllables in at the end.

Once I visited France,
And learned a new, awesome dance.
I twirled,
And I swirled,
And then I lost my pants.

There was an old man in a tree,
Whose whiskers were lovely to see;
But the birds of the air,
Pluck'd them perfectly bare,
To make themselves nests on that tree.

There was an Old Person of Rheims,
Who was troubled with horrible dreams;
So, to keep him awake
They fed him on cake,
Which amused that Old Person of Rheims.

There was an Old Person of Sparta,
Who had twenty-one sons and one 'darter';
He fed them on snails,
And weighed them in scales,
That wonderful Person of Sparta.

An intrepid explorer named Petty,
Intended to capture a yeti.
But the yeti yelled, Freeze!
I’ve a gun—on your knees,
While my Dad gets the ring and confetti.

There was an Old Person of Ewell,
Who chiefly subsisted on gruel;
But to make it more nice
He inserted some mice,
Which refreshed that Old Person of Ewell.

There was a Young Person of Crete,
Whose toilette was far from complete;
She dressed in a sack,
Spickle-speckled with black,
That ombliferous person of Crete.

There was an Old Person of Berlin,
Whose form was uncommonly thin;
Till he once, by mistake,
Was mixed up in a cake,
So they baked that Old Man of Berlin.

I met her in chat, she was neat,
her photo was pretty, petite.
we met for a meal,
I saw her for real,
I screamed and then ran down the street!

There was an Old Person of Chester,
Whom several small children did pester;
They threw some large stones,
Which broke most of his bones,
And displeased that Ols Person of Chester.

There was a Young Lady whose eyes,
Were unique as to colour and size;
When she opened them wide,
People all turned aside,
And started away in surprise.

There was an Old Man of Bohemia,
Whose daughter was christened Euphemia,
Till one day, to his grief,
She married a thief,
Which grieved that Old Man of Bohemia.

There was a Young Lady of Troy,
Whom several large flies did annoy;
Some she killed with a thump,
Some she drowned at the pump,
And some she took with her to Troy.

There was an Old Man with a flute,
A sarpint ran into his boot;
But he played daay and night,
Till the sarpint took flight,
And avoided that man with a flute.

There was an Old Person whose habits,
Induced him to feed upon rabbits;
When he'd eaten eighteen,
He turned perfectly green,
Upon which he relinquished those habits.

There was an Old Man of the Wrekin
Whose shoes made a horrible creaking
But they said, 'Tell us whether,
Your shoes are of leather,
Or of what, you Old Man of the Wrekin?'