Lymerick

Then Lou was picked up by sweet Joyce
Who teased him with her sexy voice,
“Would you like a last wish,
My beautiful fish?”
But do lobsters get any real choice?

Then Lou was picked up by sweet Joyce
Who teased him with her sexy voice,
“Would you like a last wish,
My beautiful fish?”
But do lobsters get any real choice?

Briny depths where odd creatures abound
The vast expanse can truly astound
Never to sleep
Ever so deep
More than sublime the sea is profound

In the deep where the dark lost all blue
There's a mind with too little to do
But imagine a world
Into which it is hurled
With delight that the darkness is through.

Deep and Dark by YesNo

In the deep where the dark lost all blue
There's a mind with too little to do
But imagine a world
Into which it is hurled
With delight that the darkness is through

Good and fantastic! I find it musical, it dances with me!


No and no but it is always so
Harmful as you know
As hatching birds, leave the eggs and go
Do we really wait a foe? And
What shall we do,
If life for a coward one will draw?

Thanks, Mohammad Ahmad! I enjoyed yours as well on courage.

He's one about birds getting out of the nest, inspired by your poem:

Fear of Flying

There once was a bird in a nest
Who thought he’d give flying a test.
“Any monkey can fly,”
Thought the bird way up high.
So he tried and he flew like the rest.

There once was a monkey way up in a tree
Who thought if birds can fly then why not me
He launched with a yell
But then he fell
Arms flappin', legs kickin', it never would be

There once was a monkey who flew
In the sky way up high all he knew
Was he felt like a bird.
All the chirping he heard
Make him wake. Then his flying was through.

Strange things afoot in the forest so high
The birds and the bees and monkeys that fly
Fez and a vest
You know the rest
Oh! lions and tigers and bears, Oh my!

Ruby slippers are wonderfully red,
But Dorothy wonders instead
Why those monkeys can fly
And she can’t, “Why can’t I
Get that rainbow outside of my head?”

There was a chap who met an early end
He prayed for up but instead did descend
An exclusive club
With Beelzebub
It turned out the devil was his best friend

Down in hell where the poetry’s deep
Halloween is the way you can keep
Something else on your mind,
Let your demons unwind
Till the dawn tells your demons to sleep.

Down he went through the circles of hell
A lonely church bell rang his death knell
Virgil his guide
Beatrice his bride
Always thinking, now ain't this just swell

Deep in hell where the evil folk dwell
Beatrice thought she caught a foul smell
Like a fart, maybe worse.
Dante blushed, but his verse
Didn’t show what he’d rather not tell.

Beatrice bid the two a quick farewell
When faced with Virgil's unholy smell
It was our flatus
That made her hate us
Said Virg' who had no choice but to expel

Some ladies enjoy a fine fart
And giggle to please a man’s heart.
Beatrice wasn’t one.
When the farting was done
Even demons wished they could depart.

Beautiful Beatrice bid them both cheerio
As Virg' and D' were tooting in stereo
The demons jaws clicked
And Hell's flames licked
A methane cloud that shot them to Purgatorio

The trouble with writing a limerick
Is that some people just can't deliver it
They stumble and fall
To their readership's gall
And just get it completely wrong at the end

The doctor who lives on the hill
Makes a living from making folk ill
Though he'll seldom admit
With his withering wit
That his skill with a pill doesn't thrill.

Virg' and D' on their way to the rapture
Strained too much nearly causing a rupture
They spent all their time
Finding words that rhyme
Ne'er a worry about limerick structure

It is said, although seldom confirmed,
Dante's guide had to leave to be wormed
But the nematode's girth
Was the source of much mirth
Causing Virgil to scream as he squirmed

While out tilting at windmills one day
Don quixote was feeling quite gay
And said, "Sancho, come here,
You're really a dear,
Hold my lance and we'll dance on the way"

Sancho thought hard on The Don's suggestion
Furling his brow attempting connection
A bit of a dullard
His face lightly colored
As Don's motives were called into question

Don Quijote’s a sweet sort of guy
Looking up at the star-punctured sky.
Dulcinea was out.
Time to wander about,
Time to wonder where she went and why.

The Knight, he pined for his sweet Dulcinea
He'd raised her as high as Ava Maria
But Sancho knew better
Was his job to vet her
And the girl of Don's dreams had gonorrhea

The Don knew he wasn’t as good
As those younger and willing who could
Leave her begging for more,
But he’ll even the score
And defend her like only he would.

Affairs of the heart a knight must obey
The chivalric code rules Don Quijoté
But Sancho's first love
None other above
His beast of burden named Donkey Joté

Dorotea was really quite miffed
When Ferdinand left her so stiffed
But faithful she stayed
Whilst remaining a maid
Though she led Don Quixote adrift.

Who knows what that crafty Don did
In the mountains where they were well hid.
Dorotea arrived
And perhaps they both lied.
Could Ferdnando be raising their kid?

There once was a limerick writer
Whose verse just got worse, but not lighter.
He bored children to sleep,
Drove their monsters to creep
Out the back since he was an all-nighter.

There was a young fellow from Fargo
Who planned a trip to Key Largo
Directions were crossed
Got totally lost
But found himself in Chicargo

In Fargo there was a fine lad
And a lassie who made the lad glad
Till she found someone new
Told the lad they were through
Then the judge when the good lad turned bad.

There once was good lad gone bad
His lass had a new beau named Brad
Brad was a pugilist
The lad a recidivist
"Zounds," said Brad, "I think I've been had!"

Two lovers make problems since they
Are too many. Just one needs to stay.
For his lady her knight
Should be ready to fight,
Guard her honor then take it away.

Brad, no doubt, was a Tom Cat
The lad desired mortal combat
The lass was amused
The boys just got bruised
Then they sat down for a calm chat

After fighting the lassie said, “Guys,
Please don’t fight. Take a look in my eyes
Or drop lower. Observe.
You could each score a curve--
But the winner’s fine, too, otherwise.”

Brad and the lad were full of dismay
But couldn't reject the lass's soirée
Unnatural acts
The beast with three backs
Meant imbibing too much Beaujolais

There once was a twosome then three
And then four and then five came to be.
Then came six and now seven.
Let’s skip to eleven.
It’s odd but it rhymes pleasantly.

There was a young lad whose neck was thick
Numbers and figures were not his schtick
"1-2-3-4"
"UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS"
The extent of his arithmetic

Counting is hard beyond ten
Since we run out of fingers and then
What will we do?
I don’t know about you,
But I will start over again.