There was a young man from my local
Who maintained that he was wholly teetotal.
Each day he would sup,
From his tea cup
And he wabbled as he left my local …
(the term “local” signifies a public house or pub in the UK.
A person who is teetotal never drinks alcohol.
The character in the above limerick is, of course wholly ficticious in nature).
There was a young man named Guy
Who was extremely fond of pie.
One sorrowful day
He passed away,
Which made the baker cry!
There was a young man from Kent
Who hired an extremely large tent.
The wind blew strong
And before long
That tent was blown to Ghent!
There was a young man named Mole
Who had a dark night of the soul.
He grew ever more depressed.
His friends all stressed,
That he should stop digging a hole …!
There was a young lady called Gale
Who drank 10 pints of ale.
When the barman asked “are you okay?”
She replied “tomorrow I will pay,
Without fail, for all of this ale …”!
There was a young lady named Goose
Who’s morals where rather loose.
It was her delight
Of a summer’s night
To tease the bishop, who was somewhat obtuse …
There was a young man called Mack
Who said “the best form of defence is attack”.
He hit a man
(His name was Dan),
Who promptly whacked Mack back!
There was a young Futurist named Page
Who was in love with the industrial age.
When the music played loud
She would dance for the crowd,
On the cold and empty stage.
(The above limerick was prompted by this post by Paul Andrus, http://www.paul-andruss.com/futurist-manifesto/).
There was a young man named Hurd
Who throughout life spoke only one word.
But as he expired
He became inspired
And said “death is quite absurd!”
There was a young lady called Leigh
Who wrote a book all about me.
When she asked “do you mind?”
I replied “you will find
A letter from my lawyer named Magee!”
K Morris - Poet 