A Peruvian pervert named Bruno
Once said, "There is one thing I do know:
A woman is fine,
A boy is divine,
But a llama is numero uno!"
There was an Old Lady of Prague,
Whose language was horribly vague;
When they said, 'Are these caps?'
She answered, 'Perhaps!'
That oracular Lady of Prague.
There was a Young Lady of Sweden,
Who went by the slow rain to Weedon;
When they cried, 'Weedon Station!'
She made no observation
But thought she should go back to Sweden.
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.
There was an Old Person of Leeds,
Whose head was infested with beads;
She sat on a stool,
And ate gooseberry fool,
Which agreed with that person of Leeds.
A mosquito cried out in great pain,
"A chemist has poisoned my brain!"
And the cause of his sorrow
Was para-dichloro-
Diphenyl-trichloroethane.
There was an Old Person of Tring,
Who embellished his nose with a ring;
Ha gazed at the moon
Every evening in June,
That ecstatic Old Person in Tring.
Once I visited France,
And learned a new, awesome dance.
I twirled,
And I swirled,
And then I lost my pants.
There once was a man from the Wold
Who loved drinking beer icy cold.
As he reached for his cup,
NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP!
Oooh, snap! You've been limerickrolled!
There was a young lady of Kent.
Whose nose was most awfully bent.
She followed her nose,
One day, I suppose,
And no one knows which way she went.
I remember when I was small and cool,
I was always playing truant from school.
My mum used to say,
"You'll regret it one day
When you grow up to become a fool."
Now I'm old; the damage is done.
How I wish I'd listened to Mum.
If I could turn back time,
I'd study hard and toe the line
Instead of acting foolish and dumb.
Now let that be a lesson to one and all
That life is more than just having a ball.
It was great having fun
When I was young,
But I wish I'd spent more time in the school hall.
(By John P. Read )
There once was a person named Ned,
Who had nary a hair on his head.
He pated his pate
and bemoaned his fate,
And went to hide under his bed.
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 Man of Vesuvius,
Who studied the works of Vitruvius;
When the flames burnt his book,
To drinking he took,
That morbid Old Man of Vesuvius.
There was a young dentist who thrilled,
To the sound of a tooth being filled.
He would practise, they said,
Every night in his shed,
With the old drill he's skilled.
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 a Young Lady of Hull,
Who was chased by a virulent bull;
But she seized on a spade,
And called out, 'Who's afraid?'
Which distracted that virulent bull.
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.
There was an Old Man of Coblenz,
The length of whose legs was immense;
He went with one prance
From Turkey to France,
That surprising Old Man of Coblenz.
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 an Old Person from Gretna,
Who rushed down the crater of Etna;
When they said, 'Is it hot?'
He replied, 'No, it's not!'
That mendacious Old Person of Gretna.
There was an Old Man of Vienna,
Who lived upon Tincture of Senna;
When that did not agree,
He took Camomile Tea,
That nasty Old Man of Vienna.
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 Man who said, 'Well!
Will nobody answer this bell?
I have pulled day and night,
Till my hair has grown white,
But nobody answers this bell!'
There was an Old Man who supposed,
That the street door was partially closed;
But some very large rats,
Ate his coats and his hats,
While that futile old gentleman dozed.
There once was a young boy named Nick,
Who by chance was always being kicked.
He tried not to fight,
For he was smart, kind and bright,
So he learned how to run really quick.
There was an Old Person of Cromer,
Who stood on one leg to read Homer;
When he found he grew stiff,
He jumped over the cliff,
Which concluded that Person of Cromer.
My ambition, said old Mr. King,
Is to live as a bird on the wing.
Then he climbed up a steeple,
Which scared all the people,
So they caged him and taught him to sing.
There was an Old Man of Calcutta,
Who perpetually ate bread and butter,
Till a great bit of muffin,
On which he was stuffing,
Choked that horrid Old Man of Calcutta.
If ice cream could be grown on the tree top,
Tiny tummies would be liking it lots.
Any fruit flavour
For all to savour.
Do stop by at the ice cream tree shop.
If only the trees could grow lollipops
With a sharp tangy taste of lemon drops.
Lolly licky-lick
With a zingy twist.
Come along with a skip and a hop.
If chocolate heaven grew on tree leaf,
Bountiful, tempting, delicious to eat,
A smooth, silky, treat
In a chocy feast.
If only they weren't so out of reach.
If bubblegum grew upon trees that blew
Bubbles in the air, to catch and to chew.
Be nimble, be quick;
Remember the trick.
Don't swallow, because gum sticks like glue.
All are welcome at the Candy Tree Shops.
Feast your eyes on all the goodies they've got.
There are enough treats
For all down the streets,
So come and join the jiggery-jog.
(By Beryl L Edmonds)
There was an Old Man of the Nile,
Who sharpened his nails with a file,
Till he cut out his thumbs,
And said calmly, 'This comes
Of sharpening one's nails with a file!'
There was an Old Man of Melrose,
Who walked on the tips of his toes;
But they said, 'It ain't pleasant,
To see you at present,
You stupid Old Man of Melrose.
There was an Old Man of Nepaul,
From his horse had a terrible fall;
But, though split quite in two,
By some very strong glue,
They mended that Man of Nepaul.
There was a Young Lady of Poole,
Whose soup was excessively cool;
So she put it to boil
By the aid of some oil,
That ingenious Young Lady of Poole.
There was an Old Man of Whitehaven,
Who danced a quadrille with a raven;
But they said, 'It's absurd
To encourage this bird!'
So they smashed that Old Man of Whitehaven.
There was a Young Lady of Lucca,
Whose lovers completely forsook her;
She ran up a tree,
And said, 'Fiddle-de-dee!'
Which embarassed the people of Lucca.
There was an Old Man of Peru,
Who never knew what he should do;
So he tore off his hair,
And behaved like a bear,
That intrinsic Old Man of Peru.
There was an Old Man who said, 'Hush!
I perceive a young bird in this bush!'
When they said, 'Is it small?'
He replied, 'Not at all!
It is four times as big as the bush!'
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.
Is it me or the nature of money,
That's odd and particularly funny.
But when I have dough,
It goes quickly, you know,
And seeps out of my pockets like honey.
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.
There was an Old Person of Dutton,
Whose head was as small as a button,
So, to make it look big,
He purchased a wig,
And rapidly rushed about Dutton.
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 was a Young Lady of Clare,
Who was sadly pursued by a bear;
When she found she was tired,
She abruptly expired,
That unfortunate Lady of Clare.
An extremely slim model, Miss Slater,
Was attacked by a croc and it ate 'er.
Said her trainer, Tough deal,
What a horrible meal,
We should throw it some greens and potater.
There was an odd fellow named Gus,
When travelling he made such a fuss.
He was banned from the train,
Not allowed on a plane,
And now travels only by bus.
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 circus performer named Brian,
Once smiled as he rode on a lion.
They came back from the ride,
But with Brian inside,
And the smile on the face of the lion.
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.
There was an Old Person of Dover,
Who rushed through a field of blue Clover;
But some very large bees,
Stung his nose and his knees,
So he very soon went back to Dover.
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