Creepy monsters with hair head to feet
Are delicious. Some like theirs made sweet,
So with sugar they're spoiled
After being well-boiled,
But quite raw they're far better to eat.
Creepy monsters with hair head to feet
Are delicious. Some like theirs made sweet,
So with sugar they're spoiled
After being well-boiled,
But quite raw they're far better to eat.
There was a chap named Aloysius
Who thought monsters to be delicious
But his girl Betty
Resembled a Yeti
And was staring to get suspicious
Uhhhh...
A fine mind is a wonderful thing
And my Yeti’s deep thoughts make me sing
Of sweet love at midnight
Underneath bright moonlight
Since her mind doesn’t mind a wild fling.
There once was a yeti named Rory
Sitting in his cave reading a story
Was one of Plato's
With perfidious foes
That Rory thought must be allegory
Uhhhh...
I once had a Yeti who read
Philosophy over her head.
On Power and Will
I can still hear her grill
Me and scold how I’m dumber than dead.
Rory in a cave sitting on his thumb
Thinking to himself - I am not dumb
Thought he - Do I exist?
If not I'll be pissed
After all, cogito ergo sum
Uhhhh...
Careful scientists still won’t assert,
Thinking all they can know is inert,
That my yeti is real--
Existentially feel
How I’m moved when this dream tries to flirt.
The lady Yeti was quite flirtatious
Furry and tall and most curvaceous
She wiggled and shook
Drew many a look
Without a doubt she's also bodacious
Uhhhh...
She has hair from her head to her toes
Since it’s cold with Siberian snows.
Should I go out and buy
Her a ring she’d ask “Why?”
Proof of love is what warms her and glows.
There once was a whiner who said,
“Heavy angst has gone straight to my head.”
So he wrote a love lyric,
A mad panegyric,
In praise of hot babes who have fled.
Since my brain isn’t frightfully clear
And I listen to less than I hear
And this limerick’s got
Nary reason nor plot,
If I post it will it disappear?
I am tempted to think you are right
Though I know you are not very bright
And you might be as wrong
As your tall tale is long
Which convinced me to stay here tonight.
As a damsel she was a fine maid.
After cleaning she’d rest in the shade
Of her dragon, her lord,
With his sparkling rich horde
And pretend he’s a knight, but well-paid.
There once was a Knight of olde
Who rode forth for all to beholde
But as the damsel strode by
He leaned forward to spy
And off of his steed he rolled
Uhhhh...
Lady Evelyn had quite a plight
Still unmarried, with nary a bite
She resolved not to quit
Ordered dug a deep pit
And awaited the falling of knight
You must be the change you wish to see in the world. -- Mahatma Gandhi