There was a young lady named Gay
Who said “every dog has its day”.
Her dog heaved a sigh
And said “I wonder why,
That can not be today?”
There was a young materialist named Ted
Who remarked “when we are dead, we are dead”.
He went to Hell
Where the Devil does dwell,
That unfortunate young materialist named Ted!
There was a young man named Ken
Who entered the lion’s den.
The creature rubbed it’s eyes
And remarked with surprise,
“I nearly didn’t recognise you, Ken”!
My guide dog, Trigger seeking poetic inspiration on his back (his best work comes to him in such moments).
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).
The poet sat in his study.
His thoughts where dark and muddy.
The poet’s dog walked in,
With a wag and a grin.
And paws all wet and muddy!
There was a young man named Guy
Who was extremely fond of pie.
One sorrowful day
He passed away,
Which made the baker cry!