Lymerick

Is it time to lay behinds to rest
and let owls snooze away in their nests
Here's to more fragrant musings
with which to show some things
are often ignored for the best.

The lady is right--I'll be blunt.
For loftier themes must we hunt:
Of angel and fairy
In bright uplands airy;
Just don't make us rhyme with "eyes front."

The sky is as blue as it’s sweet
And the birds up above love to tweet
And the grass is as green
As this limerick’s clean
Bathed in sky from its head to its feet.

Now its good to see sky that is blue,
But I prefer much darker hues
For the sky lit at night
by the stars is a sight
That calls out for a red wine or two.

While cool night brings a certain contrast
To hot day since sharp shadows have passed
Into darker delights,
Weary worries and frights,
But loose ghosts, hopefully, will not last.

There once was a fellow named Snyder
Had a gal and walked alongside her
But Snyder was crass
Possessed little class
With his Rocky Mountain Barking Spider

There are plenty of fauna to blame
When that fart makes a sound you can’t tame.
There is nowhere to hide
When the smell reeks inside
But why hide when the dog does the same?

There once was a man undecided
whose dog raced along quite lopsided
For his poor little paws
couldn't keep up, because
of the jet power his owner provided.

A dog is so faithful and true
Even when you are bad he’s not blue,
But his tail will be wagging,
To his friends he’ll be bragging
That he’s proud he belongs to just you.

There once was a fellow named Morty
On the street with his dog Shorty
He called girls "Honey"
Asked them for money
All so's he could afford a forty

Although dogs might be true sometimes they
Do things that they shouldn’t do. Hey,
When he’s bad, it’s a sign
That he got out of line.
Just be glad he might sometimes obey.

A dog can be taught how to beg
Or to walk through the Alps with a keg;
So it's really quite queer
I can't teach Fido here
Just to fall out of love with my leg.

My dog never met her before.
When her chain clicked she slipped through the door
And my neighbor yelled, “Stop!”
But my dog wouldn’t stop
Nor would his since they both wanted more.

My vehicle's yielded her starter;
The piece of junk ain't worth a barter.
She bore me through trials
250K miles
And ran well and died as a martyr.

When I was a strapping young Jack,
I attached license plates to my hack.
Pluvial succors
Just rusted them f*ckers;
Now I can't get the jolly things back.

I should have told my dad I was going to buy that car before I bought it but he fixed it up for me when my repairs backfired

There are reasons why junk cars are cheap
Since the cost of repairs can get steep,
But they run for a while
And may give you a smile
Like the least likely treasure to keep.

Car repair is one of the fine arts
But I'm always short just a few parts
Detroit made her
With dual carburetor
But lately her tail pipe just farts

I had needs be a vehicle buyer,
So I thought I should visit a liar.
He looked in my eyes
And told me some lies;
Now again I progress upon tire.

Rain water blowing all under my hood
I knew that was doin' my motor good
Why caint'cha be true
Why caint'cha be true - hoo
Wisht I could rhyme the way Chuck Berry do ... (would?)

I think I like it better with the non-standard rhyme scheme

https://youtu.be/QjrQWU2EcsA
Yer welcome for the ear worm

A lovely mechanic named Hugh,
When asked with my car what to do,
Suggested I find
a scrap dealer who's blind,
So I might make a penny or two.

No dragon could trust his household
Was safe from a damsel so bold,
From a knight far too bright,
Over-itching to fight,
So he moved and removed all his gold.

Some knights don't know when to give up,
Despite damsels who beat them to pulp,
Then run off with the gold
(and the dragon, its told),
Leaving them to feel such a daft chump.

My dragon knows how to make bright
A dark cave or hide stars in the night.
When he’s good I would say,
“You’re a good boy today!”
When he’s bad, he’s just more a delight.

Well as every girl knows in her heart
she should find a good boy and be smart
but a good boy is boring
and much more alluring
is a bad boy who tears her apart.

A good boy’s the one girls marry
Who’ll forget or don’t know when they tarry
Where bad boys abound
But a bad boy don’t sound
Like the kind that a good girl could marry.

While the fairy was growing her tail
And the ogre was drooling a wail
There’s that troll up on top
Of the dragon. We stop
To enjoy all that’s solid yet frail.

The prince eyed the princess with fright
then took off out into the night
for her nose was as big
as the foot of a pig
and her eyes were a terrible sight

There are those who enjoy a pig’s nose.
It is roundish and soft as it goes.
It is big and it’s there
When it’s raised in the air
When the pigs win the prize in the shows.

Now Percy the prizewinning pig
enjoyed nothing more than to dig
his truffling nose
was the talk of the shows
and made father's bank balance quite big.

' course a pig is big in the nose
but a fact not everyone knows
It's the sniffing about
he does with his snout
that ensures it grows and it grows

The more a pig sniffles and snuffles
The more likely it is to find truffles.
From dirt to pig's nose
To the gentry it goes,
Who like pigs greet such eats with kerfuffles.

When it’s dark is when stars can be bright.
I reflect on the skylights of night
And the shine of the day
Alternating. A play
That won’t end till it all turns out right.

There was a white Dick named Moby
Who swam o'er the watery Gobi.
Pursued by the Jedi--
But wait, I forget I
Speak not here of Obi Kenobie!

There was a young lady from Lanzhou
Who strummed with her thumb on the banjo.
She sat in the kitchen,
With the fair Dinah, b*tchin'
'Bout some sly railroad worker named Sancho.

There was a young lady named Jane
Who'd stick by her Dick shine or rain;
She would show him her Spot
Till his heartstrings were caught,
Then for fun, "Run, Dick, Run!" she'd exclaim.

Splashing water hangs tightly in drops
Running wildly until splashing stops.
Run and know that this now
Is entangled somehow
With more joy when the pain smiles and pops.

The problem with going too fast
when the raindrops are falling at last
is that slippery ground
makes your feet slide around
causing pain when you land on your ***

My *** oft complains of its load,
And frankly the thing's getting old.
Yet as spring turns to autumn,
I'll hold onto my bottom
As we pass down the darkening road.

My butt is quite jolly and plump.
When it rains or when I hit a lump
It’s my butt that lands first
Though my mouth shouts the curse
It’s my butt big and round with the bump.

Change that is rhythmically sound
Reminds us that time runs around
Like a seasonal wheel.
Endless cycles conceal
What is firm giving thanks for the ground.