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 Hague,
Whose ideas were excessively vague;
He built a balloon
To examine the moon,
That deluded Old Man of the Hague.

There was a young fellow named Weir,
Who hadn't an inch of fear.
He indulged a desire,
To touch a live wire,
And he celebrated by drinking beer.

There was a young fellow named Hall,
who died in the spring in the fall.
'Twould have been a bad thing,
had he died in the spring,
but he didn't — he died in the fall.

There once was a girl from Dubai,
who desperately wanted to fly.
But whenever she flapped,
that girl got so chapped,
that poor littl girl from Dubai.

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 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 the coast,
Who placidly sat on a post;
But when it was cold
He relinquished his hold
And called for some hot buttered toast.

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 colour named orange,

...Damnit.

A young schoolgirl named Rose,
Is rather ashamed of her nose.
She distracts people's stares,
With the mice that she wears,
Hanging down from her clothes.

There was a young lady named Rose,
Who had a large wart on her nose.
When she had it removed,
Her appearance improved,
But her glasses slipped down to her toes.
She followed her nose,
One day, I suppose,
And no one knows which way she went.

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 once was a man named Brice,
Who had a nasty head full lice.
He said, If I eat them,
Then I'll have beat them!
And besides they taste very nice.

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 Man of Aôsta,
Who possessed a large cow, but he lost her;
But they said, 'Don't you see
She has rushed up a tree?
You invidious Old Man of Aôsta!'

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 once was a man from Peru,
Who had a lot of growing up to do.
He'd ring a doorbell,
then run like hell,
Until the owner shot him with a .22

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.

There was on Old Man of the Isles,
Whose face was pervaded with smiles;
He sung high dum diddle,
And played on the fiddle,
That amiable Man of the Isles.

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 man from Peru,
his limericks always end on line two.

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 was an Old Person of Anerley,
Whose conduct was strange and unmannerly;
He rushed down the Strand
With a pig in each hand,
But returned in the evening to Anerley.

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 an Old Man of Madras,
Who rode on a cream-coloured ass;
But the length of its ears,
So promoted his fears,
That it killed that Old Man of Madras.

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 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.

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 of the Dee,
Who was sadly annoyed by a flea;
When he said, 'I will scratch it,'
They gave him a hatchet,
Which grieved that Old Man of the Dee.

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 an Old Man of Marseilles,
Whose daughters wore bottle-green veils;
They caught several Fish,
Which they put in a dish,
And sent to their Pa' at Marseilles.

There was an Old Man of the North,
Who fell into a basin of broth;
But a laudable cook,
Fished him out with a hook,
Which saved that Old Man of the North.

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.

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 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 Man of Kamschatka,
Who possessed a remarkable fat cur;
His gait and his waddle
Were held as a model
To all the fat dogs in Kamschatka.

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 once was a fly on the wall,
I wonder why didn't it fall.
Because its feet stuck,
Or was it just luck,
Or does gravity miss things so small?

There was an Old Man in a tree,
Who was horribly bored by a Bee;
When they said, 'Does it buzz?'
He replied, 'Yes, it does!'
'It's a regular brute of a Bee!'

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 an Old Man of the East,
Who gave all his children a feast;
But they all ate so much
And their conduct was such
That it killed that Old Man of the East.

There was an Old Man of the Cape,
Who possessed a large Barbary ape,
Till the ape one dark night
Set the house all alight,
Which burned that Old Man of the Cape.

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 once was a man from Tibet,
Who couldn't find a cigarette.
So he smoked all his socks,
and got chicken-pocks,
and had to go to the vet.

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 an Old Man of the West,
Who wore a pale plum-coloured vest;
When they said, 'Does it fit?'
He replied, 'Not a bit!'
That uneasy Old Man of the West.

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.

As for beauty I am not a star,
There are others much more handsome by far.
But my face - I don't mind it,
For I am behind it,
It's the people in front that I jar.

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.