Let's Write Some Limericks

Schools are closed again tomorrow
It is even too cold for an Eskimo
Penguins are indoors

 

Schools are closed again tomorrow
It is even too cold for an Eskimo
Penguins are indoors
Snoozing on warm floors

 

Schools are closed again tomorrow
It is even too cold for an Eskimo
Penguins are indoors
Snoozing on warm floors
While the kids play out in the snow


I'm glad Spring's just around the corner

 

I'm glad Spring's just around the corner
I'd gladly go to Aruba as a foreigner

 

I'm glad Spring's just around the corner
I'd gladly go to Aruba as a foreigner
I'd soak up some rays

 

I'm glad Spring's just around the corner
I'd gladly go to Aruba as a foreigner
I'd soak up some rays
Relaxing for days

 

I'm glad Spring's just around the corner
I'd gladly go to Aruba as a foreigner
I'd soak up some rays
Relaxing for days
Feeling as smug as Little Jack Horner

Old Mother Goose has kept us beguiled

 

Old Mother Goose has kept us beguiled
With political rhymes disguised for a child

 

There once was a guy named Hap
who didn't believe in riding the cap.
Thinking cap shaves were just hype
he tried out the Old Type
and yelled, "Man, this thing shaves like crap!"

 

There once was a shaver named Gomer
who was a die-hard Barbasol foamer
things were going quite well
'til his store stocked only gel
so he smashed the shelves and received an involuntary mental health evaluation.

 

There once was a shaver named Horace
who drove a very old Taurus
this limerick -- now, behave --
is not about shaves
but my shave rhymes all tend to bore us.

 

Old Mother Goose has kept us beguiled
With political rhymes disguised for a child
Full of hidden wit

 

Old Mother Goose has kept us beguiled
With political rhymes disguised for a child
Full of hidden wit
She sure was no twit.

 

There once was a fella named Skip
who always used a blue tip
when his good buddy Fred
replaced the blue with a red
Skip flipped cuz his lip was all ripped.

 

Old Mother Goose has kept us beguiled
With political rhymes disguised for a child
Full of hidden wit
She sure was no twit.
And her Humpty was free range not wild

I like my eggs, poached, scrambled or fried

 

I like my eggs, poached, scrambled or fried
But microwaved, I've never tried

 

I like my eggs, poached,scrambled or fried
But microwaved, I've never tried
Food that goes ping

 

There once was a wet shaver from Peru
Who tried a dry straight shave in a canoe.
The rocking little boat,
Nearly caused him to cut his throat,
And from that day forward he was never without a can of goo.

 

I like my eggs, poached,scrambled or fried
But microwaved, I've never tried
Food that goes ping
Is just not my thing

 

I like my eggs, poached,scrambled or fried
But microwaved, I've never tried
Food that goes ping
Is just not my thing
The results always seem to be dried